Foolish Games
by IndieWrites
Summary: Life throws a wrench into Harry's happy-ever-after. Draco shows himself to be an irrational and childish git, and Severus Snape just might have a heart. When Draco realizes what he's lost, he'll do anything to get it back. Even the unthinkable. Will it be too late? Somewhat DH compliant. HP/DM; eventual HP/SS slash. MPreg.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Characters herein do not belong to me, accept for Richards and Healer Roberts and any other OC. Other than that, Harry Potter and his companions are from the creative mind of J.K Rowlings. Believe me, if they were mind, Deathly Hallows would have ended much differently. **

Rating: M at the very least, for adult situations, slash, language, MPreg and angst. Turn back now if any of this bugs you.

Pairing(s): HP/DM; HP/SS later.

Summary: Life throws a wrench into Harry's happy ever after. Draco shows himself to be a total git, and Snape just might have a heart. When Draco realizes what he's lost, will it be too late? Somewhat DH compliant.

Inspiration: "Foolish Games" by Jewel.

A/N: No, I haven't abandoned my other stories. Shattered is just giving me a bit of trouble. And this little bunny is already 3/4th of the way done. I am a bit stuck on the epilogue, and will be seeking your opinions when I post the second to the last chapter. I don't want to spoil too much right now. Hope you enjoy, no matter how cliche this plotline may start out. Reviews welcome, Flames... not.

* * *

**Foolish Games -Part 1-**

_Silence._

There was a time when Harry craved silence. It was a way to lose himself, to discover himself, and to understand the world around him. Now, when it greeted him as he walked into flat, it felt suffocating. He ran a hand through his rumpled hair and sighed.

"Draco."

His voice bounced around the empty hallway. He already knew his lover of five years wasn't at home. As usual. It had become all too typical as of late. Harry had found over the past few months that Draco was gone more often than not. Even when he was home, he seemed miles away in his mind.

It hurt. It hurt so badly. Harry could feel the icy mood that filled the air whenever they were together. And sometimes he could swear he saw a flicker of disgust in those steel grey eyes. He knew Draco wasn't happy, deep down. And yet, he just couldn't let him go. He loved the Ice Prince.

Perhaps that is what hurt the most. The fact that Harry still loved him, still wanted to be with him, even though Draco didn't.

Oh Draco hadn't said so, not in words at least. But the actions were still there. The distance and lack of comfort Harry had come to crave. No one understood Harry like Draco did. And vise versa. Or so he had thought. Now, he wondered if he had ever really known the man after all.

Laying his keys on the hall table, he slipped off his shoes and padded into the kitchen. Glancing at the fridge, he looked for the note he knew wasn't there. Without bothering to turn on a light, he grabbed a glass of water and walked down the hall to their bedroom. How much longer would they share this room? The bed? Their lives? Harry could feel their relationship fade away, draining the life out of him. His hands were trembling slightly as he set the glass down on his side of the bed.

Pulling off his clothes, he wandered into the bathroom. Turning the water as hot as he could stand it, he stepped under the spray, taking in a deep breath as the water stung his gold-kissed skin. His lids slide over green eyes, remembering a time when he never showered alone. Remembering hands and lips; moans and sighs and sweet, sweet screams of mutual release. They had sought out a flat that had a huge shower just for that reason. When was the last time they had been together in here? Harry couldn't recall. Weeks, maybe longer.

Disgusted and depressed, he quickly finished washing and shut off the water. Wrapping a towel around his lean waist, he went back into the bedroom. With a groan, he fell into bed, not bothering to get dressed. What did it matter, anyways? In all likelihood, he would be asleep long before Draco came back home.

_If he comes back at all- _his traitorous mind supplied. He scowled deeply and buried his head deep into Draco's pillow. Draco hated it when Harry stole his pillow. But right now, it was the only thing Harry had to hang onto. And so he did. He hang on for dear life, as if letting go would admit there was something very wrong. A shuddering breath left his lips and he burrowed deeper.

"I will not cry. I will not cry," he whispered over and over, as the tears began to slip through his firmly shut eyes, trailing down his cheeks and soaking the pillow that smelled like his Draco. It was foolish, folly and weak, he knew. However, in the dark stillness of their room, he simply didn't care. A sob escaped his throat. There was no turning back now.

* * *

Draco paused just outside the front door, his hand ready to place the key in the lock. He took a deep breath, smoothing down his hair and his clothes one last time, and pasted a smile on his face. He knew it didn't reach his eyes anymore. At least not here. Silently, he unlocked the door and pushed it open. Dark silence greeted him. He frowned. The flat felt cold. No smell of dinner or sound of Harry moving around hit him.

Something wasn't right. Entering the house, he closed the door with a snap. Harry's shoes sat at the foot of the lower entryway stair and his set of keys was on the table. Draco's frown deepened. He was sure his lover was home. So where was he? Usually, no matter the time, Draco could find Harry somewhere in the front rooms, and a plate of food waiting for him, charmed to still be hot.

Tonight there was nothing but cold, darkness and silence. Draco was not amused. A peek in the kitchen told him there was no dinner waiting. A glance in the living room yielded no results as well. Frustrated, Draco called out Harry's name. Hearing no response, he left the living room behind in favor of searching for Harry in the rest of the house.

He paused outside their bedroom. The door was halfway open. One look inside, and he let a sneer cross his face. Sprawled out across the bed lay the very nude, and still delectable Harry. His skin shone in the pale moonlight that filtered into the room through the blinds. His body was deliciously toned due to years of Quiddich. In spite of himself. Draco felt his body responding as it always did when presented with such a sight.

Quietly, he moved across the room, dropping his clothes as he went. He paused at the side of the bed, looking down at the frowning face of his lover. Drying tear tracks still shone on his cheeks. Draco waited for the tale-tell signs of guilt he should feel, knowing he was the cause of such tears. Sadly, he felt nothing. Exactly what he had felt for months now.

Leaning forward, he trailed his fingers over the bare expanse of skin across Harry's back. He felt, rather than heard, Harry's breath hitch. With a smirk, he continued his explorations, loving the fact that he could illicit such a response. Within moments, he had Harry moaning and squirming under his touch.

"Draco…" Harry breathed out, opening those green eyes to stare at the gorgeous blond before him. Draco silenced him quickly with a bruising kiss, shoving a finger into Harry's tight entrance. Harry hissed and tensed up. Draco twisted the finger harshly.

"You know if you tense up, it only makes it worse," he said, not quite keeping the smugness from his voice. Harry winced and struggled to relax. It was like this with Draco each time they made love any more. If that's what you could call it. Personally, Harry felt there wasn't much love involved anymore. At least not on Draco's part.

He wanted to struggle, to push Draco away. But the feeling of Draco's hands and mouth, and his own loneliness overwhelmed his protests. He would hate himself later. He always did.

Their coupling was hard, fast and painful. Harry felt each thrust into his body as if knives were ripping him apart. His eyes filled with tears, although he wasn't sure if it was from the brutality of the act, or from the lack of love he saw in Draco's face. He bit into the pillow below him, muffling his screams. Draco only would take him from behind now days. It was as if he couldn't stand to look Harry in the face. Harry's heart shattered a little more with every thrust and grunt coming from his lover's mouth.

It shamed him to think that he was glad when Draco gave one more hard thrust and groaned out his release. He stilled for a few seconds, emptying himself into Harry's body, before disengaging and rolling off to the side. There was no post ecstasy cuddling or whispered words of endearment. Instead, Draco laid gasping in air for a few moments, before standing and trudging to the bathroom. Minutes later, Harry heard the shower turn on. His stomach rolling fitfully, he turned away from the door, pulling the covers up over his body and pretended to fall asleep. It was then that he realized Draco hadn't once spoken his name.

* * *

Harry was up before the dawn the following day. Standing at the large picture window, he watched as the sun kissed the sky good morning, and bathed their room in hues of gold and red. Gryffindor colors. He smirked briefly, the action looking tense and broken. A glance at the sleeping god on the bed made his breath catch. Draco was gorgeous on the worst of days. But sleeping, his face relaxed and the touches of the sun rise glowing around him, he was heavenly. Harry's heart broke, ragged lines bleeding pain and strained promises. Clutching the small black box in his hand, he shoved the other through his unruly curls. With a silent sigh, he touched his lips to the sleeping man's forehead, and walked away.

He had come to a decision in the sleepless hours of the night after Draco had returned to bed. On the one hand, he could stay with Draco, waiting for the day when the blond finally called it quits. It would be the Gryffindor thing to do, to brave it out. Somehow, he despised that thought. It would come to an end, with yelling and name calling, no doubt.

He didn't think he could take something like that. He didn't want to hear the thoughtless words that would spill from those full lips. He refused to think of the look of hate he knew would flash through those cloudy eyes.

So he didn't. He took option 'B' and simply walked away. And tried to not look back.

He succeeded, until he hit the sidewalk. Clutching his suitcase in one hand and his chest in the other, he looked up once more to the darkened window of their flat. With tear filled eyes, he whispered _'goodbye,' _and disappeared.

* * *

Severus Snape lived the last five years in relative peace and quiet. Most would think it was exactly what the snarling and crass Potions Master would want after so many years of teaching imbecilic children and dealing with manipulative men. However, Severus Snape was rather unhappy. Quite frankly, he was bored.

Life after Voldemort was painfully uneventful. With the testimony of one Potter and the memories kept by Dumbledore, he had been exonerated for the old Headmaster's death and his part in the first and second wars. He had even been awarded an Order of Merlin, much to his distaste. Gaudy old thing. He had found himself in the lime light for a short while, but soon tired of the simpering adoration of the masses. No longer needed as a spy, and with his most promising and troublesome students gone, he gave up his post a professor at Hogwarts and opened his own shop, while writing articles for _The Practical Potioneer_ on occasion.

On this bright sunny day, the monotony on his life seemed more stifling than usual. Unable to take anymore smiling customers, or useless dribble of his assistants, he decided to take an extended lunch break. Whether or not he would actually return to his shop for the afternoon remained to be seen. Restlessly, he bought a sandwich and some tea from a little food stand in Diagon Alley and walked along the busy streets.

Over the past few days, he had done some deep thinking and came to a few realizations. One- he wasn't getting any younger. Even though he was only forty-three, and relatively young by wizarding standards, he had led a rough life. And now those years were beginning to catch up with him. Potions and playing the spy game filled his younger years, and he now realized that he was tired of the direction his life had taken. He needed a fresh start, somehow.

He also came to see that despite all pretenses he put forth, he was rather lonely. Coming home to an empty house filled with painful memories made him feel as if the walls were closing in. His life stretched out before him, filled with empty nights and boring days.

Yes, Severus Snape needed a change, and fast.

He turned his stride down another street, his gaze catching the real-estate office on the corner. Perhaps, it was time to begin that change, starting with his accommodations. With a renewed sense of worth, he stepped up to the door and opened it. A chime rang accompanied by a sharp yelp and a thump. Surprised, he looked down to the ground. Hs eyes widened in shock as tortured green eyes blinked owlishly back at him from the floor. Pale faced, the lightning bolt scar he was famous for stood out in stark contrast as Harry looked up at his old professor. They remained there for a moment, each staring at the other.

Severus was the first to recover, a sneer stretching out across his thin lips. "I see you still haven't acquired any amount of grace, Mr. Potter. Tell me, are you accustom to that place on the floor?"

Harry cringed and stood up stiffly, brushing off his pants. Tight lipped, he tiredly retrieved his fallen suitcase, shrank it and merely nodded in greeting. Severus was stunned.

"Can't even stoop to grant me a greeting, Mr. Potter? What, nothing to say?" Even in his ears, his taunts sounded harsher than normal. He wondered at this briefly before shoving the thoughts away. Harry still stood there silently, unwilling to take the bait. Frustrated, Severus brushed past him, allowing the door to close behind him. Harry caught the doorknob just in time.

"Good day, Mr. Snape," he said quietly before rushing out of the office. Confused and not a little disturbed, Severus turned at the words, watching as Harry left, his shoulders slumped in a defeated manner. Something was certainly wrong. Shaking his head, he tried to dislodge the worry that clawed at his mind. He may not like the younger man, but seeing him look so broken caused a twinge of some unmentionable emotion in his chest. He had expected a fiery retort, not the quietly spoken greeting. That man was not the man he had known for over seven years as his student.

The clearing of a throat brought his attention back to the task at hand. He had better focus on his task and forget about broken little Golden Boys and their petty little problems.

Later that night, alone in his familial house at Spinner's End, Severus once again found his thoughts turning to The Boy Who Lived Twice and his haunted eyes. He hadn't seen Harry since graduation day five years ago. They barely managed a nod at that time, glaring at each other from across the Great Hall. It was without a heavy heart that Severus saw Harry leave school, forever, he presumed. It was Severus' last year of teaching as well.

Since that time, anything he knew of the Golden Boy was through random news articles he happened upon. He did not seek out information on Harry, nor did he show any interest in learning of his life now. Harry, it seemed, preferred to stay out of the spotlight. He hadn't even shown up for the endless Death Eater Trials, sending in his testimony instead. Not that Severus noticed.

He supposed, had he been a different man, he should have sought out the Savior and given his thanks for Harry taking the time to help him at all. But he wasn't, and so he didn't. The years stretched out, and Severus found it easier to push the boy from his mind.

At least until now. Examining the memory of this afternoon as he sipped on some well aged FireWhisky, he replayed Harry's reaction, or lack thereof. The man looked haggard. Like his life had been turned upside down. Last he had heard, Harry and Draco had started up a relationship, and Harry had been hired by the Canons as a Seeker. Draco had been glowing in his happiness for both the relationship and Harry's good fortune. That had been years ago, however. And things change. Drastically so, it seemed.

Draining his glass, he decided to pay a visit to his godson in the morning. Maybe then Harry's broken gaze would leave him in peace. And the pain in his chest would finally go away.

Meanwhile, in an empty little cottage by the sea, the same green eyed young man laid on a lone black leather couch, wondering not of his encounter with his old Professor. But rather of the emptiness he felt and the questions of why floating through his mind. Silence once again was his only companion. He had a feeling he had better get used to it. It was that thought alone that brought tears to his eyes. Muffling a sob, he pulled the blanket up over his shivering form and quietly cried himself to sleep.

Morning dawned in all its annoying bright and cheerfulness. Severus disliked bright and cheery. Raining and gloomy would far better suit his task today. Grimly, he went about his morning rituals, showering and getting dressed in his customary black. He paused for a moment, wondering briefly why he continued to wear black. It didn't necessarily compliment his complexion nor his tall lanky form. He supposed, off offhandedly, that it was simply habit. Perhaps he would look into purchasing new robes later on. Something in dark blue, maybe.

Satisfied that his appearance was the best it would get without glamour or some such nonsense, he ate a quick breakfast of tea and toast, indulging a bit today with a dollop of orange marmalade. He smirked slightly, feeling nostalgic. Glancing quickly at the clock, he decided he had best be off if he wanted to talk to Draco before he opened his shop.

It was surprisingly easy to find the flat Draco was currently keeping. He shook his head in disgust. Of course the ostentatious boy would be in the finest part of London, in the best high-rise flats. How Harry had handled living here, he could not understand. Everything screamed richness, and Harry, for all his faults, was not suited for someplace like this.

And yet, he knew he had lived here recently, the gold plated plaque outside the door said as much. He ran his long finger over the name and frowned. Then, composing his face into a expressionless mask, he knocked sharply on the door. There was a shuffle from within, and then a pale, decidedly female face opened the door. Whatever Severus was expecting, this wasn't it. He shoved his surprise in the back of his mind and turned on his meanest of sneers, catching her distinct lack of attire. The girl's eyes grew huge and she paled even more.

"Fetch Draco," he growled. She squeaked and nodded, quickly turning tail to do as she was told. He waited impatiently, his thoughts swirling in turmoil.

Draco soon stood before him, yawning, his hair in disarray and shirtless. His eyes widened momentarily before he broke into a grin.

"Severus! What a pleasant surprise." He held open the door wider. "Won't you come in?"

Severus shook his head. "No, I haven't the time at the present I'm afraid. I only have a few moments, really."

Draco's face fell in disappointment. "Oh," he said dejectedly. "So what brings you here?"

"I haven't heard from you in a while and simply wanted to see how my godson was doing." He saw Draco's brow raise and knew he wasn't buying it. Damn those Slytherlin instincts.

Draco propped a hip against the doorjamb and smiled. "Really, Severus? I'm supposed to believe that drivel? Why are you really here?"

Severus, seeing no way out, settled for a half truth. "I saw your Potter yesterday," he paused, watching Draco's expression close off. Ah, so there was trouble in paradise. Although, if the girl was any indication, there was a hell of a lot more than just trouble. "He looked terrible. I was simply worried about you. You know I refuse to pry into your business. However, I had to be sure there wasn't anything seriously wrong."

There, that was acceptable, wasn't it?

Draco laughed, surprising Severus. Taken aback, he frowned deeply. "He's not _my_ Potter, Uncle Sev. Whatever he told you was quite probably blown way out of proportion. We've split, obviously. But nothing to be worried about. He was a good fuck, while it lasted, and I'll miss that tight arse of his for sure. But there are other fish in the sea, besides the Boy Wonder." Draco's words and sneer were decidedly sharp. He looked almost feral. "If he looked so horrible, it's not any of my business, I'm sure. He'll get over it."

"I see," Severus said, saddened by Draco's calloused behavior. He may dislike Harry sodding Potter, but the man deserved better than this harsh attitude. He was quiet sure the parting had been less than amicable. "Well," he began, composing himself. "I'm glad to see you are doing so well, Draco. Stop by the shop sometime, will you? And tell your father hello for me."

"I'll be sure to do that, Severus. Thanks for stopping by. It was really nice to see you, truly. I've missed you." Draco stuck out his hand. Severus shook it, recognizing the sincerity on his godson's voice. He may be a Malfoy through and through, but the little prat was still his family. He should have endeavored to keep in touch better than he had. With a parting wave, he walked away, a few more answers than questions now plaguing him.

And plague him they did, throughout the next few weeks, in fact. He had no real reason to be so completely obsessed with The Boy Who Lived; it wasn't as if the young man's life was in any sort of danger. Furthermore, before seeing the green eyed man, he had spare him no lingering thoughts. Now his mind seemed filled with them. It was disturbing, to say the least. Even in sleep, his dreams were haunted by broken eyes and quiet words.

He was reaching his ropes end in frustration six weeks after their brief encounter when the fates deemed it right to grant him some relief. A order came through his shop for a full case of Dreamless Sleep and several anti-nausea potions. The assistant in shop that day brought it down to the lab.

"I thought you might want to see this before it was sent off, sir," the young man's voice filtered into the potions lab. Severus cast a stacous spell over the potion he was currently working on. Flicking his hand out, he grabbed the parchment from his assistant's hand. His eyes went over the order rapidly, then more slowly.

"What have you been up to, Mr. Potter?" he murmured lowly. Nodding, he looked up. "I'll take care of this one personally. I'll need to brew a few more vials of the Dreamless Sleep to make a full case. Thank you, Richards," he said dismissively. He turned back to his work, unaware of the strange look his assistant had given him on his way out.

The Dreamless Sleep potion was finished two days later. Severus, unable to keep his curiosity at bay, decided to hand deliver Harry's order. It was unlike him, he knew. And yet… and yet… his realizations a few weeks back had begun to subtly change him and his outlook.

Which brought him to his current location outside a small cottage in Brighton. The house was modest and, dare he say, homey. A small yard was lined with well-tended rows of flowers in various colors. A white picket fence ran the whole length of the front. He wondered if the back looked just as nice. Somehow, he was sure this was the work of Potter, and not some horde of house elves. Potter, he reflected with a smirk, seemed to be the type to not have such creatures.

Again, he was proven wrong. Rapping sharply on the door, he frowned, suddenly disturbed at the lack of wards he felt. Surely, the young man would have placed some up, even as a precaution. And yet, he felt none. Waiting a moment, he again knocked. A surge of wild magic wrapped around him, coating him with warmth. He stumbled back, his hand clutching convulsively around his wand, the other snaking around his middle as the magic washed over him once again before disappearing completely.

"What in the blue hells was that?" he asked out loud, unnerved by the shakiness of his voice. He hadn't felt something like that since the final battle against the Dark Lord. Now he understood the lack of wards. Potter simply didn't need them. Not if that little demonstration was of any indication. Straightening, he lifted his hand to knock once more, only to have the red door flung open, and a wide eyed little elf looking back at him, its mouth open in shock. It was wringing its hand fiercely and moved from one foot to the other.

"Professor Snape, sir," it squeaked out. "Yous come to help Master Harry, sirs?"

Severus frowned, completely confused, not only by the greeting but by the familiarity the creature showed. "Is your master at home?" he asked.

The elf hopped again and nodded. "Yes, sir. He's is. But he's is sick. He's is spending long time in the bathroom. He's is making funny noises, and Tibby knows not what to do." The hand wringing began in earnest.

The frown turned to a look of concern. "Take me to him," he commanded, following the pathetic creature inside. He looked around him quickly, not really seeing his surroundings. He would have time to examine Harry's home later, after he had determined the source of Harry's illness. Tibby led him down a short hall and stopped in front of a door. A long groan could be heard from within, and Severus turned the brass knob, pushing open the door. There, he stopped in horrific shock. Harry, the Indestructible Boy Who Wouldn't Die, was hunched over the toilet, currently dry heaving with such force even Severus had to wince. The coughing that followed sounded just as painful.

Severus grabbed a towel, wetting it in the sink. He knelt next to the younger man, wiping the cloth across the sweaty face.

"Thanks, Tibby. Who was at the door?" Harry asked, his voice a harsh scratch of sound.

"I was, Mr. Potter," Severus answered. Harry's green eyes flew to his face and he scrambled back, falling onto his rump. He sat there, shocked into silence. Severus allowed him a few moments, standing and getting the man a glass of water, which he took without a word. Severus noticed how his hand shook as he lifted the glass to his lips, taking a small sip. Finally, he seemed to compose himself, his face slipping into a mask of cautious indifference.

"I guess you aren't here to do me harm. My magic wouldn't have let you through the door if that was the case. Why are you here, Snape?" he rasped out, struggling to stand. His legs shook terribly, and he found himself sitting on the closed lid of the toilet after flushing the contents away.

Severus leaned back against the vanity, his arms crossed over his chest. He leveled an appraising look at Harry, taking in his pale countenance and almost black circles under his gem-like eyes. He had long since gotten rid of his glasses, favoring Muggle contacts instead. His hair was longer, still unruly, but in a shagged way. His clothes hung off his frame, and Severus could tell he was much thinner than he should be. All in all, Severus hadn't seen Harry look this bad in years, the end of his fifth year as a matter of fact.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a box and enlarging it. He held it out for Harry's inspection. "I believe this is yours, Mr. Potter."

Harry took it from his hand, gingerly. Examining it, realization dawned on him. "My potions. But why…?" His voice trailed off and his eyes widened almost comically. "You!" He blushed. "Er… it's your shop, isn't it?"

Severus nodded. "An astute conclusion, Mr. Potter. It is indeed my shop you ordered from."

"But, why didn't you just owl them to me? The other shop always just owls them." Harry finally gained his feet, waving Severus out of the way and grasping the counter top. He ran some water, splashing it over his face. He bobbed his head in thanks as Severus handed him a dry towel.

"The other shop? I take it this is not your first order of these potions."

Harry shook his head. "Well, the nausea is new. But the Dreamless Sleep? No. My usual shop just happened to be out. So I had to seek it somewhere else."

Severus was taken aback. Dreamless Sleep was a once in a while potion. The use of it on a regular bases wasn't recommended. The side effects could prove life threatening depending on the length of usage. "You are aware that taking the potion for any extended length of time is not advised." He leveled his gaze on the fidgeting young man. Harry couldn't meet the black eyes and looked away.

"It's better than not sleeping at all," he mumbled. He rubbed a hand across his eyes tiredly. "Anyway, thanks for dropping it off. The payment was delivered already, yeah?"

Severus knew a dismissal when he heard one. He could press the matter, but seeing the state of exhaustion Harry was in, figured it simply would do no good. So he nodded. "Yes, it came through this morning."

Harry nodded in response. "Good. I'm sorry you had to come out all this way. I'll be back to using my other shop next month, so there won't be any reason to come back here." He turned towards the doorway, intent on leaving the room.

Severus reached out, then dropped his hand. What was he thinking? Comforting the Boy Who Lived? For shame. "You're welcome to order from my shop whenever, Potter. My potions are top grade after all. At least you will know you are getting the best, if you insist on taking it."

Harry seemed stunned and turned his head. "I…uh… thanks, sir. Really, thanks."

Severus simply nodded. "I'll show myself out. Be sure to let us know when you need more, of either."

It wasn't until he was back in his lab, tinkering with a potion that he remembered the nausea potion. Why in the world could Harry need so many? And why was he so sick? Once again, Severus Snape's thoughts became absorbed by the mystery of Harry Potter.

* * *

Harry groaned from his spot on the floor. _I really should think about carpeting the bathroom, seeing as I spend so much time on my knees here._ His nausea had only worsened over the past few days, abating only for a few hours after using the nausea potion. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and called for Tibby. The elf popped in with a small crack and fell to her knees beside him.

"Master Harry is calling Tibby? What can Tibby do for Master Harry?"

Harry leaned back against the wall and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Tibby, bring me a quill and some parchment, please." With a snap the elf was gone and back. Harry took the offered writing utensils and penned a short missive. "Take this to Mr. Snape in Diagon Alley, please. And wait for his response." Tibby nodded and snapped her fingers. Harry leaned his head back and shut his eyes. He hated asking for help, but he was simply out of options.

It had started weeks ago. At first he thought it was simply a flu bug. Strange, yes. He was usually very healthy, his Quiddich career helping to maintain that health. But he was still human, and even the healthiest of wizards and witches became ill every once in a while.

However, the vomiting began to linger, taking him out of his practice games, and then one major match. After three weeks of an extremely upset stomach and excessive tiredness, his coach demanded he see their team healer. The healer, unfortunately was at a loss and simply prescribed a few potions to help with the nausea and tiredness.

When he fell from his broom a week and a half ago, his coach grounded him. He balked at first, arguing that it would pass.

"_It's been over five weeks now, Potter. I don't want to do this, but you're becoming a risk up there. Another fall and it won't be a broken arm, it could be your neck." His coach squeezed his shoulder gently. "It's just for the rest of the season. We only have a few more games." He held up his hand when Harry opened his mouth to protest. "Look, if you are better in time for the finals, I'll put you on reserve."_

_Harry sighed. "Alright."_

"_Okay, now go home and get some rest. You look like shite."_

Harry had done little besides resting the last few days. He barely had the energy to drag himself out of bed. If it weren't for Tibby, he was sure he would have wasted away to nothing. For once, he was glad he had argued with Hermione about Tibby. She had proven invaluable.

Groaning, he grabbed his stomach, lurching over the toilet bowl for the fourth time in the past hour. He just hoped Snape was in a helping mood.

* * *

Severus was enjoying a quiet morning at his newly acquired house on the outskirts of London. It was vastly different than Spinner's End. Less history, more peace. He enjoyed the tranquil days he spent here. While much smaller than Spinner's End, it had a homey feeling to it. He smirked inwardly. No one among his acquaintances would believe he could be happy here. And while he might not be happy, per say, he was content.

Now if only he could quit his worrying about that blasted Potter. It had been two weeks since he had been to the man's house, and the feelings of dread had only continued to grow. _The Daily Prophet_'s headlines that morning did nothing to assail his concerns. It proclaimed that the famous Seeker had taken an extended hiatus from the team, citing health concerns as the reason. If Harry looked as bad as he had two weeks ago, Severus was certain for once, _The Prophet_ was right on the money.

A sharp snap startled him out of his thoughts. "Master Snape, Master Harry sent Tibby with a note," the wrinkly little creature screeched. Severus was on his feet, his face stormy.

"How did you get here?" he asked dumbly. Unlike Harry's cottage, he had several thick layers of wards around his house. The question seemed to confuse the elf. She simply fluttered her ears in irritation, holding out a small piece of parchment. Severus sneered and took it. "Well, what are you waiting for? Return to your master."

"Tibby is to stay here for response, Master Snape." Tibby wrung her hands several times, her ears rotating. Severus simply shook his head. There was no reasoning with the creatures, he knew. With a sigh, he quickly read the note, his face contorting with concern.

"Where was your master when you left him?" he asked, his voice hard.

"Master Harry is on the floor, sir. He is being sick again."

That was enough for Severus. Quickly, he strode into his lab, grabbing several potions and tucking them into his robes pockets. With a swirl he nodded. "Take me to him." Tibby grabbed his hand and with a POP! they were gone.

Traveling by elf was much easier than floo or portkey. They popped right into the upstairs bathroom doorway, Tibby releasing Severus immediately. Severus looked down, his brow furrowed in anxiety. Laying on the floor curled into a tight ball was Harry, his arms wrapped protectively around his stomach. His skin was white and clammy to the touch. His eyes were screwed tightly shut and he had managed to bite through his lip, leaving a small touch of blood on his chin.

"Potter. Potter, it's me. Snape. I need you to roll over," Severus said, gently touching the younger man's shoulder. Harry did as he was told, his hands still clutched into fists against his stomach. Sweat rolled in rivets down his face, combined with tears. He continued to gnaw on his lip, leaving more blood. Severus summoned a washcloth and softly wiped the red liquid away. "How long have you been like this?" he asked. Harry shook his head. A moan slipped past his lips.

"Tibby!" Severus barked. "How long has your master been this ill?"

Tibby shifted her stance from foot to foot. "Ten days, sir. Master Harry is not allowed in the air any more. He break arm and boss says no more flying." She tugged on her ear. "Master Harry sicker now after not flying. Master Harry sick all the time now."

"And how long has he been on the floor today?"

"Since dawn," Tibby squawked. Severus' eyes widened.

"Six hours? He's been here for six hours?" Tibby nodded. Severus shifted, gathering Harry into his arms and standing. "Show me his bedroom. I need to lay him out."

Tibby shook her body and led the way. Harry's room was right across the hall from the bathroom. The bed was large, and Severus was surprised to see the coverlet was an earthy bronze color. The sheets looked damp and rumpled.

"Change the sheets, Tibby. And gather a few towels and a basin of water, please." The elf was quick to obey. Severus watched her move about, shocked at how light his load was. Harry, for his age and career, should have been much heavier than he was. Concerned, he shifted his burden until Harry's head laid against his shoulder. Harry let out a soft wail, and settled.

Within minutes, Tibby had finished her task, and went in search of the towels. Severus gently laid his burden down. Harry automatically moved to curl up again. Severus' grip on his shoulders stopped him. His green eyes cracked open.

"Severus…" he whispered. Severus paused a moment, shocked to hear his name pass Harry's lips. He shook himself.

"Harry, I need you to lay flat for a bit. I need to examine you." Harry shook his head slightly, groaning. "I know it hurts, but it will only be for a moment." Harry stopped struggling, the fight gone out of him. Severus moved his wand over the prone man, casting a few diagnostic spells. He wasn't a medi-wizard by any means, but he did have a basic understanding of healing. The results were confusing and conflicting.

"Have you seen a healer, Harry?" he asked, frowning deeply. Harry nodded.

"The team healer. He couldn't figure out what's wrong."

"That's it? You haven't seen anyone at St. Mungo's?"

"No, I thought the potions you and he had given me would fix whatever this is. It's just a bug." Harry threw an arm up over his eyes, the light causing a sharp headache to start. Tibby drew the curtains closed and placed the basin of water and towels on the bedside table. Severus barely noticed, examining the results still.

"I don't understand this," he murmured to himself, looking from the floating chart to Harry. He spelled off the man's shirt, critically looking over his torso. He looked far too thin, his stomach sunk in and his ribs entirely too visible. There was a slightly discolored bruise on his right side. "Where did this come from?" he asked, his finger tips lightly touching the marred skin.

Harry flinched. "Quiddich accident a few weeks ago."

"The same one that broke your arm?" Harry nodded. Severus scowled, frustrated. "I think you need to see someone at St. Mungo's, Harry. This is beyond me." Harry said nothing, his stomach rolling again. Severus could see the tell-tale signs of his throat constricting to keep down the vomit. He summoned a bucket, helping the man roll to his side as he emptied his stomach again. When he had finished, Severus bundled him up tightly into a blanket and picked him up. Stepping to the fireplace, he activated the floo and shouted "St. Mungo's." Moments later, they stood in the busy lobby of the wizarding hospital.

A surprised witch looked up at him. "Sir?"

"I need a healer," he said, surprised at how frantic his voice sounded. He clutched his burden closely to his chest.

"Sir, you'll have to wait. Take a seat over there and we will get you checked in." The witch gestured to the bustling waiting room. Severus turned his onyx eyes with a full on glare to the woman.

"Look, this is Harry Potter here. The bloody Savior of you lot. He's very sick and requires immediate attention. Unless you want his blood on your hands." The witches' eyes got as big as saucers and she spun on her heel. For once, Severus was glad Harry had such clout. He pulled the now shivering man closer in his embrace.

The sound of rushing feet soon reached his ears and he turned his head towards it. A tall graying man came to a stop before them, the insipid little witch on his heels. She appeared out of breath and rather embarrassed. Severus felt a small smirk of delight touch his mouth. Sobering, he looked at the Healer.

"Miranda said you had Harry Potter here?" he questioned. Severus nodded.

"Yes. He called me to his house this morning, complaining of stomach irritation. He's almost catatonic now. I ran a few diagnostic spells over him, but cannot determine what ails him. I thought it best to bring him here."

The Healer nodded. "Come this way, Mr. Snape. We'll see what we can do." Severus followed the man into an examining room, his worry growing. Harry had grown silent, not even a whimper had issued forth from him in the last few minutes. Placing him on the bed, he stepped back to allow the Healer to do his job. He watched as the same spells were preformed and saw the same reactions.

The Healer stood silently, looking over the results with a strange expression on his face. He turned to Severus. "How long has he been like this?"

Severus shrugged. "I'm not entirely sure. I saw him a few weeks ago when I delivered some Dreamless Sleep and anti-nausea potions to his house. He had been sick to his stomach then as well, but he said nothing as to the length of time his illness had been with him. His house elf showed up at my house this morning with a missive from Mr. Potter here asking for my help."

"Did he give any indication today how long it had been?" the Healer asked.

Severus shook his head. "No, he was barely responsive when I got there. His house elf did say he had been sicker since his departure from his Quiddich team. That was over a week and a half ago. I believe she said it had been ten days to be exact."

The Healer turned back to Harry, looking over his slight form. "And the bruising?"

"That accident a few weeks ago. It was in the papers."

A light dawned in the man's eyes. "Oh yes, I recall reading something about that. Broke his arm too, I believe." He paused, re-reading the results. "It's most peculiar. Some of these reading indicate a higher level of hormones typically found in pregnant witches. But that's impossible for a wizard."

Severus felt his throat tighten as he gasped. The Healer gave him a funny look. "What is it, Mr. Snape?"

Severus shook his head. No, no that simply wasn't possible. The last male pregnancy had been over a century ago. _And Harry is the strongest wizard in over a century, _his mind supplied. "It's not impossible, sir. Just extremely rare. The wizard has to be truly powerful. And Harry…Mr. Potter is truly powerful." The Healer's face matched his in horror.

"Oh Merlin…" he breathed, his mouth gaping like a fish. "Bloody hell, what do we do now?"

To that, Severus had no answer. Somewhere in his heart of hearts, he felt a twinge of anguish of the poor boy that Fate just wouldn't leave alone. It appeared once again, that he had gotten the short end of the stick. Just how he would handle this, well, that remained to be seen. Then another thought struck him. "Damnation," he growled, placing his head in his hands. If Harry truly was pregnant, there could only be one man as the father.

Draco sodding Malfoy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Same as previous chapter- Not mine, belongs to J.K. Rowlings, except for the random OC's wandering through.**

* * *

**Foolish Games Part 2**

It was three days later when Harry finally regained consciousness. During that time, Severus had become an institution of sorts in Harry's room. The tall stoic man could be seen reading at his bedside during the day, pouring over what looked like old dusty tomes and scrolls. Healer Robert had granted Severus full reign in the hospital's library, in hopes that together they could unravel the latest disaster that was Harry's life.

Severus had called into his shop, letting his assistants know that he would be out for the rest of the week, only coming in after hours to fill emergency orders. Between his stints at the hospital and his late hours in his shop, he wasn't getting much sleep. Had someone told him it would be because of Harry Potter, and that he wouldn't mind too much, he would have called them mental and had them locked up in a second. The fact that it didn't bug him made him wonder if he shouldn't be locked up as well.

He kept telling himself, sitting there next to the sleeping younger man, that he was doing this purely in the name of research and advancement in potions, and not because he felt anything close to caring for Harry. After all, it wasn't every day a pregnant man came along, even in their world. Still, there were times when he simply sat there, the tomes and scroll forgotten as he watched Harry sleep, cataloging his expressions and the movements of his body. Whether he was conscious of this or not, well… it wasn't something he would admit to. Nor would anyone with any sense of self-preservation ask him.

The question of paternity came up once; Healer Robert assumed Severus was the other father, and so asked about his medical history.

Severus shook his head. "I'm not the father," he told him.

Healer Robert's eyebrow rose a fraction. "Oh, I see. Do you know who is?" he paused, seeing Severus scowl. "I don't mean to pry, but I'm sure the father is worried about the condition of his partner. It's also easier to determine what we should be looking out for, if we knew."

"I do know, or at least suspect. However, I think it would be prudent to wait until Harry is awake and let him determine what to do and who to tell. If my assumptions are correct, the last person he wants to see would be the other father," Severus replied.

The Healer's eyes grew dark. "He wasn't… you know?" His voice was hard with worry.

Severus shook his head. "Not that I know of. It's something you will have to discuss with Mr. Potter."

Healer Robert nodded. "If you're not the father, why are you so invested in this, if I may ask?"

Severus sat there for a moment, contemplating the question. It was one he had asked himself just the night before when he found himself reaching out to touch Harry's hand. He had stopped himself before contact, thankfully. But still the urge remained. He looked at the sleeping angel in the bed and then out the window.

"I don't rightly know," he said.

Healer Robert looked surprised, but said nothing more.

It was later that afternoon when Harry first began stirring. A soft moan came from his chapped lips and he licked them slightly. His eyes opened slowly, then slammed shut.

"Too bright?" a deep voice asked quietly and he nodded his head minutely. It felt as if Hippogriffs were tap dancing all over his skull. The lighting suddenly was much dimmer, allowing him to crack his eyes open once again. At first he saw nothing but muted white. Panicking slightly, he flailed his arms out, trying to sit up.

"It would behoove you to remain laying down, Potter. Moving about like that will only land you on the floor," the voice spoke again. Harry stopped, turning his head in the direction of the voice. A form sat in the shadows, a heavy book on his lap.

"Where am I?" he asked, his voice raspy from lack of use. He heard the man get up, and saw slim fingers hand him a cup of water. Gently, he was lifted to a half sitting position, and the cup lifted to his lips. He drank greedily, whimpering when the cup was removed. Focusing his eyes on his helper, they widened in shock before he attempted to scramble away.

Severus rolled his eyes. "Really, Mr. Potter. I'm not going to bite." He set the cup back on the bedside table and reclaimed his chair, dragging it forward so that Harry could see him without straining his neck. "As for your current location, you are in St. Mungo's and have been for the last four days."

Harry glanced around him once more, seeing that he was indeed in a hospital room. He groaned, throwing an arm up over his eyes. "How did I get here?" he asked.

"I brought you here." He bit back a sneer when Harry looked at him in confusion. "Do you not remember the events a few days ago? You wrote me a note, asking for my assistance." Harry nodded. "I came and found you exceedingly ill. After running a few diagnostic spells, I determined that your problems were beyond my field of expertise. So we came here."

"Four days?" Harry asked. "I've been out for four days?"

"Yes."

Harry shivered, and clutched at the blanket. In a move that surprised them both, Severus laid another blanket over the man, tucking it in around him. Harry gave him a look of thanks, and blushed lightly. "So, were they able to figure out what's wrong with me?"

Severus paused. "They were. But I think that is better left up to your Healer." A flash of panic went through those green green eyes.

"Oh Merlin, I'm dying, aren't I?" Harry whispered.

Severus frowned. It was sad that the boy's mind went directly to that solution. Had his earlier years only prepared him for death? He shook his head.

"No Harry," he spoke softly. "You're weak, and your magical core has been depleted, but you're not dying." Whether it was his tone, or the word he spoke, Severus watched as Harry relaxed, some of the tension leaving his slight form.

"Oh. Oh well, that's good, right?" He looked at the Potion Master sheepishly. "I mean it's bad, but not as bad as dying."

Severus raised a brow. "Yes, Harry, it's better than dying."

Harry nodded in return and closed his eyes. "Okay then. I think I'll just take a little nap. I'm suddenly worn out," he mumbled, his voice already slurring with sleep. Severus waited until his breathing evened out before leaving the room to find Healer Robert. He was sure the man would want to know of Harry's awakening, and his current frame of mind.

Harry did not awaken again until the following morning. He was a bit more lucid this time, enough to question Severus' continued presence at his bedside.

"Why are you still here?" he asked, causing the indifferent man to jump. Severus calmed himself, shutting his book with a snap and removing his reading glasses. "I'm sure you have much better things to do than to play nursemaid to me."

Severus set his book aside, picking up Harry's water cup instead. After giving the younger man a drink, he sat back down and folded his hands in his lap. "You have a rare medical condition, Potter. And I find myself curious. Suffice it to say I'm here for research purposes only."

Harry flinched as if he had been hit, and Severus felt a twinge of guilt at the hurt that flash through his eyes. He hadn't meant to sound so calloused, but was unable to admit there might be a more personal reason for his continued attendance. "I see. Freaky Potter's a lab rat for the ever knowledgeable Snape. Tell me, Professor, what will you gain from all this?" he snapped out, sweeping his arm around the room. "Will I be a case study that will get you an award or something? Perhaps a new potion to be patented?" His mouth turned into a sneer rivaling Severus' trade mark expression.

Severus recoiled slightly, unsure what to say. At first, he had thought of Harry as just that. But now… now he couldn't say that was the case anymore. He opened his mouth to retort when a burst of magic pressed against him. He felt the air in the room heat up uncomfortably.

"Get out," Harry hissed. Severus moved to protest, but was shut up by another wave of magic. "I said get out!"

"I think you had better leave now, Mr. Snape. We need to get Harry calm and relaxed, and his magic spinning like this isn't good for him, or his baby. You can come back later when he has had a chance to calm down," Healer Robert said, assessing the situation immediately. Harry was truly a very powerful wizard and could level the hospital with very little effort. Combined with his unstable hormones, and they had a recipe for disaster. The older man pressed a firm, but comforting hand on Severus shoulder. Severus nodded, quickly taking his leave. He had the feeling it would be quite a while before Harry would be up to seeing him, or anyone for that matter. He snuck a quick glance backwards, seeing Harry's white face and the sweat dripping down the sides.

"Baby? What baby?" he heard Harry voice reach a frantic screech and was suddenly thankful he wasn't in there at the moment. Resigned, he strode to the waiting room, hoping to talk to Healer Robert before leaving.

A half hour later, the foundations of the hospital had stopped shaking and quiet once again filled the halls. Healer Robert emerged from Harry's room, pinching the bridge of his nose. He paused when Severus stood. His gaze darkened as he leveled a glare at the Potions Master.

"Is he okay?" Severus asked.

Healer Robert shook his head. "He's sedated. His magic was too out of control to do anything else. It's not healthy for either of them for him to remain in that state for any length of time."

Severus nodded in understanding. "He didn't take the news very well, did he?"

"No. Although, what can one expect? This is a very unusual situation. I think anyone would say he had the right to panic a little." He cast a sidelong look at the man. "Severus. What did you say to him to set him off?"

Severus had the grace to look slightly embarrassed. "He asked why I was here. I simply told him."

Healer Robert sighed. "Oh dear. Severus, I've known you for years, decades really, and I have never seen you stick around like this. You can't say you are here simply for research. And knowing you, I'm sure your delivery was somewhat lacking in finesse."

Severus attempted a half heart shrug, and failed. He sank back down into his seat. "You know Potter and I have never gotten along. We are acquaintances to say the least. And shoddy ones at that. But something about this whole situation, it rankles my sensibilities."

"You feel invested in the boy's well being, don't you?" Severus nodded. Healer Robert had the grace to chuckle softly. "You always have, Severus. From what you've told me of your past interactions, this is nothing new. I think you're just finally realizing it." He squeezed the younger man's shoulder. "Give him a few days and then come back. I think he will need all the friends he can get in the near future."

Severus ran a hand over his face tiredly. "Alright. I think I'll head to Hogwarts and check out the library there. Maybe there will be some record of the last man to be in Harry's situation."

"That sounds like a good idea. You'll let me know what you find?" Healer Robert requested. Severus inclined his head. He had a lot to think about before facing Harry again, and he knew it would be best to take a few days away.

"Let me know of any drastic changes, please."

"Of course. Take care, old friend." With a final pat, Healer Robert walked away. Severus took a deep breath and Apparited back to his shop.

* * *

"I know this is difficult to understand, Mr. Potter. But the blood tests have confirmed it. You are indeed with child," Healer Robert said, his voice strained. Harry had been in denial for the past two days, refusing to believe anyone's explanations as to his current condition.

He shook his head, his dark locks moving around his head. He tugged on them in irritation. "It's impossible. If men can get pregnant, why aren't there more running around?"

Healer Robert sighed. "As I have already explained to you, you are a very rare case. The last wizard pregnancy was over a 100 years ago."

Harry's chin jutted out stubbornly and he crossed his arms over his chest defiantly. "Then why me?"

"We believe it has to do with your magic levels. You are one of, if not _the_, most powerful wizard in nay a century. It's not so hard to understand. Improbable, yes. But not impossible." Healer Robert directed his wand over Harry, reading the findings as they appeared. He ignored the grumbled _"As if I'm not a freak enough,"_ in favor of checking Harry's magical core levels. "You are doing much better than you were a few days ago. You magic seems to have balanced out again, and the baby's heart looks to be strong and steady."

Harry paused in his whining and looked up at the healer. "So, it's okay?" he asked quietly. The healer nodded.

"Yes, it looks like you and the baby will be fine. As long as you keep your temper and your magic under control. Flying off the handle like you did was dangerous not only to you, but to your baby. Exposure to wild magic like you possess could lead to birth defects later on." He watched with a small smile as Harry's eyes widened and he slipped a hand down to caress his slightly extended stomach. He sighed and leaned back on his pillows.

"Alright," he said resignedly. "Tell me what I need to know." Healer Robert sat down in a chair and leveled his knowing gaze on the young man.

"First things first. Do you know who the other father is?" Harry nodded, a pained look entering his emerald eyes. "I take it he isn't someone you wish to discuss."

"No. We didn't part on amicable terms. I'm quite sure he would be less than pleased to know of this development."

Healer Robert nodded in understanding. "I see. While I usually recommend that the, uh… mother, inform the father of their pregnancy, I will leave this up to your discretion. I am assuming it was consensual?"

Harry turned his face away, biting on his lip. "Yes, in a manner of speaking. We had been together for over five years. That last night together wasn't exactly forced." His voice trailed off. Healer Robert read between the lines.

"But it wasn't exactly pleasant for you, was it?" Harry blushed and shrugged. Healer Robert frowned. Situations like this were hard to deal with. While not rape, the feeling of being used were still present. And he could only guess Harry felt guilty as well. He was just as much a victim as one who experience a forced act. He reached out and squeezed Harry's hand briefly. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry you have to go through all this. It will be harder for you without the love and support of a partner."

"I'm used to handling things on my own, Healer Robert. I'm sure this will be no different."

The healer shook his head, his face taking on a pinched expression. "Be that as it may, no one should have to do so. Especially as the whole ordeal is, well, unprecedented in our time, we have no real idea as to what to expect in the coming months. Severus has been combing all the material he can, looking for other records of male pregnancies in hopes of shedding some light on how to help you deal."

Harry flinched slightly at the name, but said nothing. He was still a bit put out about the Potion Master's words the last time he had been here. And yet, he couldn't fault the man. After all, there had never been any love lost between the two. He was a bit surprised that Severus would go to such lengths to find out anything concerning the Boy Who Lived.

"In the mean time, I'm going to keep you for a couple more days, just to make sure we can keep some sustenance in you. You're terribly underweight, and it's causing strain not only on the baby, but on your heart as well," Healer Robert told him. He nodded in agreement. He had to admit that getting some more rest wouldn't be too troublesome. He yawned. Healer Robert chuckled. "I'll leave you to get some rest." He moved across the room and paused. "And Harry, when Severus does come back, you might want to take a moment and listen to him. I know he didn't handle things well last time, but he's trying."

Harry didn't respond. But the healer could tell he was thinking about it. And that was enough for him. With a smile that lit up his blue eyes and wrinkled his mouth, he left the younger man to ponder.

* * *

Severus leaned back in his chair, rolling his head around and rubbing his neck. He had lost count of the hours he had spent slumped over mountains of dusty books. He had ignored the glares Madame Pince sent his way, cursing under his breath as he came to another dead end. He was getting nowhere fast, and that was simply unacceptable. How was he supposed to help Harry if he was blind to the matter at hand? He had exhausted all the scrolls and tomes in his own library and was currently halfway through the Restricted Section at Hogwarts.

A dim light shone over his shoulder and he turned to look for the source. Minerva McGonagall stepped up beside him, setting a steaming cup of tea on the table before him and slipping into a chair.

"I haven't seen you this driven in years, Severus. I didn't ask when you asked to use our library, but curiosity dictates that I do so now. What are you looking for? Perhaps I can be of some assistance?" she asked.

Severus took a sip of his tea, mulling it over in his mind. On the one hand, this was not his secret to tell. On the other, he was at his wits end looking for answers. So, taking a deep breath, he looked at his former colleague.

"Tell me, Minerva, what do you know of the last recorded male pregnancy?" he asked as solemnly as possible. The look on her face almost shattered his mask. She sat back, her eyes automatically going to his own flat stomach before raising to meet his eyes.

"Er… are you…?" she trailed off, suddenly at a loss for words. Severus shook his head.

"No, not me."

Minerva looked relieved for a moment. "Oh, well that's good. So this is hypothetical research then?"

Severus uncharacteristically bit his lip. "Not necessarily." He paused, weight his options once again. "I need your word that this does not go any farther than this table." He looked her dead in the eye, his sharp black gaze telling her he was serious. She nodded.

"On my magic, I so swear. Now Severus, what's this all about?"

Severus took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "It appears our Boy Wonder has once again found himself playing the Fates fool."

"Harry?" Minerva gasped. Severus nodded. "But how?"

"The usual way, of course," he sneered.

"But I thought it was impossible," she said, still in shock.

"No, just extremely rare. It appears Mr. Potter has more power than even we suspected."

"And the other father?"

"Draco Malfoy."

Minerva gaped. Sure, most knew of the relationship between the two. It had been in all the papers, after all. But their breakup had not. "And how are they dealing with this?" she asked.

Severus took another sip, wishing it was FireWhisky instead. He needed something more bracing. "Draco doesn't know. Their relationship dissolved a few months ago. By the Healer's calculations, Harry conceived right before the split."

"Are you sure it's Draco's?"

"Harry hasn't confirmed it, as far as I know, yet. However, you and I both know Harry is too Gryffindor to have an affair. No," he paused thoughtfully. "It's Draco's. Which makes this situation that much more delicate. From what I can tell, their parting wasn't on the best of terms."

"Oh. Oh dear. That poor boy. He never seems to catch a break, does he?" Minerva said sadly. She knew as well as Severus the hard life the younger man had while in school. She had hoped that things would change for him after leaving Hogwarts and the fall of Voldemort. But it seemed it was not to be. Casting a glance at her companion's face, she reflected that he was another person who deserved a little break. Then she frowned.

"If it's Draco's child, how did you come to know about all this as he does not?"

Severus rolled his shoulders and launching into the retelling of the past few months, starting with his run in with Potter at the real estate office up to the last conversation they had a few days ago. Minerva sat in silence, listening without a word. The tale was heart breaking to say the least. And the emotions that flickered across the usually surly Potion Master's face were surprising to see.

"I see," she finally said when Severus had completed his tale. "Well, I'm not sure you will find anything in here. However, you might want to speak with Albus. He was alive during the last case, if the information you do have is correct. He might know something, or at least a place to look."

Severus mentally smacked his head. Why hadn't he thought of that? "Of course."

Minerva nodded and stood. "Come along, then. Will you be staying in the castle tonight? I can have the house elves prepare a room for you, if you like."

Severus stood as well, stretching his back like a cat. "That would be most appreciated, Minerva. If Albus has anything to share, I will want to take a look in the morning."

Together, the two left the library, ignoring the looks the straggling students gave them as they moved along the quickly emptying hallways.

* * *

Albus was surprising knowledgeable, and discreet. He popped over to his portrait in St. Mungo's, peeking in on Harry while Severus looked over the old scroll he had been pointed to. It appeared the old Head Master had kept impeccable notes on rare medical cases and the case of Fredrick St. McClowd was undeniably notable.

"Harry's sleeping," Albus said, sinking back down into his painted chair. Severus looked up and blinked.

"How did he look?" he asked, trying to keep the worry from his voice.

"Tired, but not as peaky as you had said he was. I think they have him on something to boost his nutrition levels. He looks frightfully thin."

"Vomiting repeatedly over three weeks will do that to you. He's lucky he played Quiddich. A less active man would have been in far worse shape, I'm sure," Severus replied.

Albus nodded, peering curiously at the notes in Severus' hand.

"Did you find anything of interest?"

Severus looked back down at his written notes. "Somewhat. There isn't much information. But I think there is enough here to give Healer Robert and Harry an idea of what to expect over the next few months."

"And you, Severus? What do you plan to do? It seems a waste to spend so much time on this and not see it through." Albus' eyes twinkled with that old sparkle.

Severus' eyes narrowed on the meddling old man. Portrait or not, the old wizard still knew how to poke his nose in where it wasn't wanted. Or was it? He shook his head. "I will leave that up to Harry. We aren't on the friendliest of terms, you know."

"No, perhaps not. But I have a feeling you could be, my boy, if you wanted to be."

Waving his hand Severus shrugged. "Again, the ball is in Potter's court entirely. I admit I am fascinated by the whole situation. And would like to observe the progress it makes. However, whether or not that comes about will be Potter's decision. I made a bit of a blunder earlier, and I'm not sure Harry will be comfortable with me around," he confided.

The twinkle in Albus' eyes only got brighter.

"There was a time that wouldn't have even crossed your mind, Severus." He smiled kindly at his old friend. "I do believe you have matured in the past few years."

"Let's just say war teaches you to look at things in a different light. Not all is black and white. Especially when it comes to the Golden Boy. I admit the past few years have enlightened me in rethinking my views."

"I'm glad to hear that, my boy." Albus sat back, watching as Severus gathered up his notes and the scrolls. "Don't give up. And Severus, come see me more often. This old man gets bored having only a snarling cat and a bunch of painted old fools surrounding him."

"I heard that," Minerva said, striding back into the room with a glare at the painting. She then smiled at Severus. "Your rooms are ready whenever you are. You may stay as long as you like."

He nodded his thanks, slipping out of the office silently. Moments later he was sinking into the big soft bed in his temporary quarters and headed off to sleep.

* * *

Restlessness set in after three days of being conscious. Harry, having been extremely active in his lifestyle up to a few weeks ago, was about ready to climb the walls of his room in the hospital. So it was with almost relief that he welcomed Severus back into his company. Severus on the other hand was quite pleased to see Harry's countenance had returned to normal. Pale just didn't suit the sun kissed young man.

"Tell me you've found something," Harry practically begged the older man as he stood in the doorway. He gestured to the seat next to the bed, his eyes bright as Severus sat down.

"I've found something," Severus parroted, earning him a mild glare. He smirked and settled back in his chair.

"And?" Harry prodded.

Severus held up a hand. "Healer Robert will be in here soon. I would rather not repeat myself."

Harry looked like he was about to pout, but changed his mind. He sat back against his pillows, leveling a deep stare at the silent Potion Master. "I think I owe you an apology, Snape. I overreacted during our last encounter. And I'm sorry for that."

Severus met and held his gaze. "We were both at fault. I was insensitive to your feelings. You know me to be a harsh man. However, that doesn't excuse my behavior." He paused and pushed a hand through his long hair, the silky strands settling back down in perfect order. "I'm not adept to handling situations like this and I allowed my old prejudice to cloud my judgment. I know we share a tumultuous past, being merely allies at best."

Harry nodded. There was no denying the lack of love between the two. And yet, the man sitting before him was unlike the harsh Professor he had known in his school days. This man had a slight softness to him, making him seem almost human.

"I should thank you, sir. As I understand, you have spent more than the typical time here with me and in researching my… predicament. Whatever your motives, I appreciate your efforts. And for bring me here. Healer Robert said I might have died if you hadn't acted when you did," Harry said with sincerity.

Severus' eyes narrowed. This was news to him. "Did he say why?" he asked.

"Harry's body was shutting down from lack of nutrients. His constantly being ill was taxing his internal organs. He had three to four days max before he would have slipped into a coma. At that time, we could have lost both he and the baby," Healer Robert informed him, coming into the room and standing at the foot of Harry's bed.

Shocked into silence for a moment, he looked from one man to the other. "I see," he said quietly. "And now? How are he and the baby now?"

"Harry is doing much better. His body has put on some weight and his magic levels are stable, for now. I plan to release him tomorrow," Healer Robert replied.

Harry's face lit up at the thought of going home. "Really? I can go home?" he asked eagerly.

Healer Robert nodded. "As long as you take it easy and come in for weekly check ups, I don't see why not. I'm sure I don't have to tell you that flying is out until further notice. Another fall like you had and we might not be able to put you back together again. Not to mention a fall could be fatal to your baby. But I think everyday activities and such should be okay."

Harry nodded in understanding. "Coach grounded me anyway. And Tibby will handle the big things around the house," he assured the Healer.

"Do you have anyone else that can come stay with you for a while? Just in case something goes wrong," the Healer asked.

Harry blanched a bit. He looked down at his hands, fisting and unfisting in the blankets. "I…um…I'm not sure how anyone will take this, you know? My friends all have their own lives. It wouldn't be fair to ask them to come take care of me." He bit his lower lip to keep it from trembling. Stupid hormones. Why hadn't he thought about that before? What would Ron and Hermione say? And Ginny? Oh Merlin. He groaned, burying his face into his hands. This just got more and more complicated. And what would happen once word got out about his condition? The press would have a fucken field day with it.

He felt his heart speed up, his breaths coming in short, frantic gasps. His vision began to swim as his hands grew clammy. Damn, damn, damn…

Then, just as the black began to close in around him, he felt cool fingers press on the back of his neck. "Breathe, Harry. Close your eyes and take deep breaths." Severus rubbed his fingers in little soothing circles. Harry did as he was told. "That's it, in…out… in… out. Good, good." He felt Severus' weight settle beside him, as his arms came around the smaller man's body. Harry concentrated on listening to Severus' breathing, matching his own to it. Slowly but surely, he felt his heart beat return to normal, his breathing slow down and the blackness recede from his sight.

Finally, he pushed away a small space, his face red with embarrassment. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. Severus' fingers continued their kneading of his neck.

"It's to be expected, Harry. It's a stressful situation after all," Healer Robert said, smiling inwardly at the sight before him. He was caught off guard at the swiftness Severus had shown in comforting the younger man. He had a feeling Harry would not be alone during his ordeal. And he thought there couldn't be a better solution.

As Harry's color evened back out, Severus loosened his hold on him. Sitting back against the headboard, he pulled Harry loosely against his chest, transferring his hands to the man's arms, still tracing soothing patterns on the golden skin. Harry seemed to not mind a bit, and so Severus saw no need to stop. Subconsciously, he realized he gathered as much comfort from the touches as Harry was. However, he was not about to examine that thought, at least not at the moment. Perhaps later, much later, in the comfort of his own home, would he search out the reasons behind his foreign emotions towards the man whom previously was the bane of his existence.

"I have to agree with you assessment, Healer Robert. Harry should have some sort of company in attendance. Just to ensure his safety. As this is new territory to us all, he can't risk complications that could take the life of him, or his child," Severus said after several moments of silence. Harry closed his eyes as the vibrations of Severus' voice invaded his being. He suddenly felt extremely worn out.

"What do you suggest, Severus?" the Healer asked politely, already sure of the answer.

"Harry can stay with me, I suppose. At least until other arrangements can be made," came the reply.

Harry's eyes flew open. "Like hell I will," he shouted, shoving away from the warm embrace of Severus' arms. "We can barely stand each other in the same room for any length of time. What makes you think we can manage to live in the same house?" Once again, his senses began to overload as he fought the waves of panic. Severus grabbed him, holding him tightly to his chest and resuming his soothing ministrations.

"Because, _Harry,_" he ground out, willing the younger man to relax. "I have faith that we can act as two mature adults and strive to work together for the sake of your health and that of your child."

Harry settled immediately. Already the fear of losing his baby made him listen to his instincts. And if Snape was willing to try and put their past behind them, who was he to act childish and deny that? He sighed deeply. "Alright. I'll go along with it."

Healer Robert clapped his hands together with a smile, getting twin glares from the men on the bed. "It's settled then. Tomorrow when you are released, you will leave with Severus and stay with him until it is deemed unnecessary. Agreed?" Severus and Harry's heads bobbed in agreement. Their eyes still flashed with hints of challenge, and he was sure their time together would not be boring.

"Good, good. Now," his face grew serious. "You found out something about the last male pregnancy?" he asked.

Severus nodded. "I check the library at Hogwarts, but found nothing of consequence. Minerva suggested I speak with Albus."

"Wait," Harry interrupted. "Professor Dumbledore and McGonagall know?"

Severus scowled warningly at the young man in his arms. "Yes, now hush. It was important and both swore not to tell. You know you can trust their word on this." Harry nodded reluctantly. "Anyway. Albus was alive during the last recorded case and had kept a series of notes on the wizard and his pregnancy." He paused. "It was encouraging in some forms, and worrisome in others. The last wizard, a Fredrick St. McClowd, was a young man of 18 when he conceived. The father, his betrothed, was ten years older than him, and supportive during the pregnancy. It was suggested that the baby's strength of magic came from having contact from both parents." He felt Harry deflate in his arms and tightened his embrace minutely. "However, that doesn't necessarily mean you will need contact with Draco, Harry. Having another strong wizard, or your group of friends, may fill that need."

Harry lifted hopeful eyes to the older man and Severus felt his breath catch. The boy looked so lost, reminding him of their encounter months ago. "Don't worry," he said softly. "We'll figure it out." Then he cleared his throat, refocusing his attention on the Healer. He caught the knowing look in the man's eye and sneered briefly. Healer Robert merely smiled. "St. McClowd's pregnancy lasted seven months total." He stopped, unwilling to reveal the next tidbit of information.

"And?" Healer Robert prodded. "The birth, what happened?"

Severus glanced down at Harry then back to the Healer. "The birth was successful, C-section, which was rather risky at that time. The baby was a healthy boy."

"And the father?"

"The bleeding was too much…" he shook his head, the implications clear.

"He died," Harry whispered. Severus nodded.

"Yes." Silence descended upon the occupants of the room as that word faded away.

"I see," Harry whispered, shivering. Severus found himself clutching the younger man tighter, trying to still his own shaking limbs.

"That was over a hundred years ago, Harry. Medical and magical advances have been great and many since then. We have more knowledge now. I'm sure we will not only have a successful birth, but will also keep you alive and well long after," Healer Robert spoke quietly, but with confidence. Harry looked up at him, seeing the determination in the man's blue eyes. He nodded slightly. Healer Robert stood, brushing the wrinkles from his pants.

"Okay, I have some information to look over. Can I see your notes, Severus?" he asked. Severus waved his head towards the folder on the bedside table, suddenly unwilling to let Harry go. In his hardened mind, he had to wonder what in the hell had gotten into him. This was Harry bloody Potter he was clinging to. And yet, he simply couldn't bring himself to care at the moment. He watched as his old friend picked up the papers and nodded to the two of them before leaving. The door shut with a soft click.

As soon as the sound died away, Harry broke. All his fears, all his anxieties came crashing down around him. Hot tears poured from his eyes as he clung to Severus' robes. Severus said nothing, just tightened his arms and began to rock the sobbing man. And this too should have worried him. Instead, it felt entirely too right for him to question. It seemed the Fates hadn't chosen just Harry to mess with.


	3. Chapter 3

Standard Disclaimer applies. J.K. Rowlings is the creator of Harry Potter. The OC Characters wandering through are mine.

Author Notes will henceforth be confined to the bottom of the chapters. Less clutter.

* * *

**Foolish Games Part 3**

"I don't see why we can't just stay here. We have the room, and Tibby," Harry grumbled as he sat on his bed, watching Tibby pack a suitcase for him. It was always a weird sight, seeing the clothes fold themselves and shrink for maximum storage. Severus stood at the window overlooking the large back acreage. It was lovely, with a wild sort of feel to it. The property slanted down the hill to a private beach. Severus could understand Harry's complaining. He didn't want to leave this place either.

He sighed heavily. "Potter, it's more practical, as my labs are at my residence. And as I am the one working currently, it is simply easier for me to be near them." He paused, looking back over to the sullen young man. "Unless you would rather stink up your house with the smell of my potion ingredients?"

Harry wrinkled his nose and shook his head silently. Snape had a point. With his stomach still touchy and volatile, smells strongly effected him. And he certainly recalled the horrid scents that came from Potions class. No, he had to agree with Severus, whether he liked it or not. He gazed around his room longingly. He had come to love his little house in the past few months.

Severus caught his gaze and walked across the room. Standing before Harry, he waited until those green eyes flickered towards him. "Besides, Tibby is bonded to you, not the house." He paused, gauging Harry's facial expression. "Perhaps, when I'm not working, we can spend weekends here," he suggested. Harry's reaction was astounding. The younger man flung himself from his perch on the bed and hugged the stoic man tightly. He smiled brightly.

"Thank you, Severus," he whispered. Severus reveled in the sound of his name and returned the embrace briefly. Then he cleared his throat, pulling back from the shaking man.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concerned. Harry nodded, swiping his hand across his eyes and ducking his head in embarrassment.

"Yeah," he gulped. "Sodding hormones. They'll be the death of me," he laughed and disengaged himself completely from Severus. He plucked at the end of his tee-shirt, his fingers still shaking slightly. He couldn't meet Severus' eyes, and so wandered around his room. Tibby had just about finished her packing, her small voice humming an odd tune. He picked up a picture of Draco and he that sat beside his bed. He stood staring at it as the figures smile and waved before leaning in to kiss. It had been their fifth anniversary. Such a different time, so full of love and promise. Unconsciously, Harry's hand moved to caress his stomach.

"Doesn't matter what was then. I love you now, little one," he whispered, opening the drawer and tucking the picture away. Severus stood in complete silence, allowing the man his moment of sorrow. He couldn't say he understood how Harry felt, and yet, his heart went out to the fragile younger man. Harry cleared his throat and turned around. "Sorry about that," he said with a watery smile. "Shall we go?"

Severus nodded. Shrinking Harry's luggage, he held out his arm, waiting until Harry took hold to Disappartate. He worried briefly how the journey would affect Harry and the baby, but as there had been no warning to the contrary, decided it would be okay.

Harry, however, didn't agree. As soon as they landed, he was on his knees, his stomach instantly rolling. Severus touched down gracefully, then dropped down beside the heaving young man. He placed a hand on his back and Harry looked up, red faced and sweating.

"I'm sorry," Harry spoke softly. "I'm not so good with Apparitions. It seems ten times worse now." He sat back for a moment, waiting for the world to right itself once again, feeling horribly embarrassed that he had continued to show himself weak in front of the one person he wished to see him as stronger.

Severus shook his head. "No need to apologize. I should have checked with you in the first place." He watched as Harry placed a trembling hand on his stomach. He seemed to be waiting for something. Then his face relaxed and he sighed. Severus lifted a brow. "What was that?"

Harry smiled serenely. "I was feeling the baby's magical strand. You know, just to be sure they were okay." A look of wonder passed over Severus' face quickly. There were so many new things to discover about Harry's condition. He knew then, that he was quite privileged. Standing, he held out his hand, lifting the young man to his feet.

"Come, the house is this way," he beckoned. Harry followed contritely, looking about him as they walked the short distance up to the front door. While Severus' home was larger, it lacked the quaintness of being by the sea as Harry's had. He missed the rushing sound of the waves already. Gazing up at the rocky manor like home, he thought it held a certain charm. It wasn't at all what he would have pictured Snape living it.

Then again, the man had repeatedly surprised him over the past week, so he supposed this should be of no exception. The inside, he observed, was homey and down to earth. Comfortable enough for him to feel relaxed, and spacious enough that they could both have their own time away from each other. All in all, along with the prospect of returning to his little cottage on the weekend, Harry concluded that the next few months just might turn out to be alright.

A relief, considering his circumstances.

Severus led him up the stairs, and down the short hallway, indicating which doors were his bedroom and study. The library was of a two story design, half downstairs and half up. Harry's room was right next to it. Swinging the hardwood door wide, Severus stood out of the way, anticipating Harry's reaction. Though he would never let on, he had spent a fair amount of time making sure the room would be suitable for the younger Gryffindor. Decked out in warm tones of burnt gold and sage, the room was not only spacious and open, but held a welcoming air. The huge bay windows opened out, overlooking the small garden Severus had begun. A window seat perched underneath, with a bookcase within reaching distance. Along the farthest wall was the fireplace. Harry took it all in with glowing green eyes.

"The fireplace is on the Floo network, and I've taken the liberty of opening it for St. Mungo's and your cottage. It will open up right into your living room," he told the speechless young man. Satisfied with Harry's reaction, he turned away. "I'll leave you to get settled. We'll have tea when you are finished."

He was half way out the door when he heard a whispered "Thank you." A small smile touched his thin lips. He had never been one for showy displays of emotion. But something in those words warmed him. The next few months would be interesting, of this he had no doubt. Shaking his head at his own Gryffindor thoughts, he went downstairs.

Harry sank on his borrowed bed with a sigh. So many odd thoughts roamed through his mind, almost giving him a headache. Of all the people for him to end up with in this situation, Snape was the last one he would imagine. And yet, here he was in Snape's house, enjoying a finely furnished room and peace and quiet. Snape's turn of attitude puzzled him to no end. As long as he could remember, their acquaintance was terse and tense. The underlining anger on Harry's part, and blatant hatred on Snape's was well known. Harry hadn't thought anything could change the harden war hero. And yet, in the past week he had seen a side of the man that was soft, and dare he say, pleasant.

He chuckled lightly, thinking of Snape's reaction to his musings. The man would have a coronary, he was sure. Harry sighed and stood up, flicking his wand and sending his belongings into a frenzied unpacking. With that accomplished, he took a moment in the adjoining bathroom, splashing some water over his face. He could feel the activities of the day begin to drain him.

"I'll just lay here a moment," he said, curling up on the bed. All too soon, his eyes closed and his breathing evened out. As the last few articles of clothing folded itself and the last drawer shut, Harry drifted off into a deep sleep. There, in his dreams, he saw a child with golden hair and sea foam eyes. Smiling, he let his dreams take him far away.

* * *

Severus sat in his most comfortable chair in the living room, eyeing the teacups before him. Twenty minutes had passed since he had left Harry in his room, and the pregnant young man had yet to reappear. He was feeling a bit anxious, given Harry's last few weeks of illness. This led him to feeling irritated as well. Caring for someone was tedious when you were unaccustomed to such emotions.

"Blasted boy, what's taking him so long?" he snarled lowly, gaining his feet. With long strides, he walked out of the room and up the stairs. He could play the host when need be, but if the younger man thought he could get away with rudeness…Severus shook his head. He was quite possibly jumping to conclusions. In order to keep the tentative peace between them, he would have to grant some allowances. Stopping before the slightly open door of Harry's room, he paused, bringing his ire under control, the smallest of sneers marring his face.

Knocking lightly, he listened for any indication that Harry was ill again, or injured in any way. Hearing nothing, he pushed open the door, mindful of the silence within. The sight that greeted him caused his pale cheeks to flush. The Golden Boy lay surrounded by his blankets, the deep gold making it look like he slept on a cloud. His eyes, shut tightly, fanned out the black lashes, brushing his cheeks. Severus crept in, standing only inches away from his charge. Harry's mouth bowed into a soft smile and his hand hovered protectively over his slightly distended stomach.

Unaware he had done so, Severus placed a hand on his forehead, the touch almost none-existent. Brushing his fingers over the lightning bolt scar and into the silky black curls, he stood there, watching as Harry's chest rose and fell in rhythmic breaths. The young man sighed, leaning into the touch. That brought Severus back to himself with a vengeance. He pulled back his hand as if burned, stumbling slightly. Catching himself, he quickly left the room.

This situation was becoming far too dangerous for his Slytherin sensibilities. He would have harden his walls a bit more. It would do him, nor Harry any good if he began entertaining thoughts and desires that would only lead to heartbreak and pain.

Once enclosed in his study, he warded the door, sinking into an overstuffed chair with a tumbler of FireWhisky. The burn of the drink, however, did not drowned out the feel of Harry's hair beneath his fingers. Glaring at the offending appendages, he wondered if allowing Harry to stay was really the course of wisdom. He was unfamiliar with many aspects in regards to love, or even lust. Relationships had been foreign to him during the two wars. Lily, Harry's mother, was the last person he could remember being allowed anywhere close to the sensible man's heart. And look how well that had ended.

He gulped down the fiery liquid, quickly pouring himself another. And now, here was her son, a strong man weakened by the betrayal of his lover, pregnant and hormonal. He wanted to believe that he could be of some help to the man, but he was positive any gesture of closeness would not be welcomed.

_Yet,_ his mind supplied. "Yes, yet," he whispered in agreement. What the coming months would bring, he didn't know. But he had a feeling neither one of them would escape the same person they were going into this.

He rubbed a hand over his face tiredly. Then he laughed out loud, the sound sharp in the stillness. He was more confused and filled with changing emotions than even Harry could boast at this moment. "Who's the pregnant one after all?"

* * *

Harry awoke the next morning, buried underneath a mountain of covers on a soft bed. Groaning, he rolled over onto his back, his hand running little circles over his pitching stomach.

"Oi, little one. Can't I have one morning without my head in a toilet?" he complained. The bile rising in his throat was a resounding "No." Unable to will the feeling away, he shot out of bed, rushing across the room to the bathroom. Sinking to his knees, he began his morning ritual of vomiting. He was surprised, when a few minutes later, a soft wet cloth was passed to him. Wiping his mouth and face with it, he looked up through blurry eyes.

The tall imposing figure of his ex-professor stood over him, his face drawn into a concerned expression. "Still?" he asked simply.

Harry nodded weakly. "Still. I'm hoping it will pass soon. I don't know how women put up with this for months. I can't imagine doing this for much longer." He rubbed his itching eyes. He had forgotten to remove his contacts the night before, and was suffering the results. He pressed the cloth to them, sighing as the coolness helped relieve the pain.

Severus frowned, flushing the toilet when it seemed Harry was finished. He watched as the young man tiredly held the washcloth to his eyes. Turning back to the bedroom, he spotted Harry's glasses on the bedside table. Summoning them, he held them out to Harry. Harry mumbled a thanks, and took out the contacts. Once his glasses were on his face, he smiled shyly.

"Must remember to not do that again," he said, struggling weakly to his feet. He sat heavily on the closed lid, searching the Potion Master's pinched face.

"Why haven't you had them corrected?" Severus asked. Honestly the boy had more magic in his pinky than most wizards 50 years older than him.

Harry shook his head. "I had them checked out, after leaving school, you know? The healers said the damage to them was too great."

"Damage?" Severus asked stupidly.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, damage. My relatives refused to get me glasses that were the right prescription. I had my uncle's old ones for a while, and then a spare pair of my aunt's readers." He rubbed at his eyes again. "By the time I had some that were the right strength and all that, my eyesight was too bad for it to be fixed completely." He shrugged. "The contacts work well enough now. Although, the healers told me that as I get older, that won't be the case."

"You mean, you will go blind?"

"Eventually," he chuckled slightly. He got up, grabbing his toothbrush in the process. Severus stepped aside, allowing him some room.

"And your career? What will you do about that?" he questioned. He watched as Harry's brows drew down in a frown. Spitting, he rinsed his mouth out and put away the brush before answering.

"I'll retire. Although," he paused thoughtfully, "I suppose I should do that now. I can't exactly fly like this. And after the baby's born, traveling and the like would be, well…, kinda irresponsible of me." He shot a look at Severus, catching and holding his gaze. "I don't want my child growing up without their parent around. Not if I can help it, anyways."

Severus nodded, understanding the soundness and underlying pain in the younger man's voice. "I think that would be a wise choice."

Harry flashed Severus a soft smile. "I love Quiddich. I just love her more. And a life moving about, and stuck in the media's sniper scope isn't ideal for a child. Merlin knows, I would avoid it if I could."

Severus fought hard to answer the smile with one of his own. Then his mind zeroed on one of Harry's words. "Her?"

Harry's eyes widened. He closed his eyes, a deep frown on his face. Then they opened and revealed breathtakingly bright green. He bit his lip a moment. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure this little one is a girl. I think I saw her last night, in a dream. And the magic feels feminine."

"Oh," was all Severus could think of to say. The idea that magic could feel of a certain gender was a new idea, one he was sure would be worth exploring later on. He took a step back out of the room, still slightly breathless at the sight of Harry's love filled gaze. He knew it wasn't directed at him.

Merlin help him if it ever was.

* * *

After that day, the unlikely housemates fell into a sort of comfortable routine. Severus woke most mornings to silence, Harry usually sleeping late in the morning. His tiredness was concerning, and Severus couldn't help but worry that maybe the babe had something to do with, more so than in a normal, female pregnancy. Harry's nausea finally abated in the second week of his staying there. It was a welcome development to both Severus and Harry. However, his appetite still seemed dormant, even though he could be found cooking dinner more often than not. And while Severus relished the delicious meals Harry constructed, he couldn't completely enjoy them without worry.

Afternoons were spent at his shop, or lab depending on the amount of work needed. Tibby proved herself invaluable once again, as she was called to say with Harry when Severus' work took his away from the house. He felt a strange sort of loss when shut up in his shop, the noise and bustle of customers grating on his nerves. He was hard pressed to not snap continuously at his assistants or any insipid consumer who happened to ask a question of him. Often times, he refused to leave the lab for the entire day, sending messages through notes to his assistants.

Harry on the other hand, found himself restless. The house, once explored, boasted a music room with a baby grand piano, and a second study two doors down from his room. Some days, he would sit for hours in his room, starring out the window. From his window seat, he could build his castles in the sky, or in this case, the nursery. Time and again, he would construct a room, only to wave his hand and the vision to disappear.

Two and a half weeks of this and Harry had enough. He wanted activity. Anything that required moving and less thinking. What he wouldn't give to be back on his broom. He had never been one to sit idle, his Muggle family drilled that into his brain from an very early age. With Severus gone until late, and nothing else to do, he began roaming again. His steps strangely brought him to the music room.

He shrugged. Alright, so it wasn't exactly moving around. _But,_ he thought, _it was better than sitting around and doing nothing._ Gingerly, he sat down on the bench at the piano. Lovingly, he ran his fingers over the lid, before lifting it and looking at the ivory and ebony keys. He had never been allowed to pursue anything of a musical nature. There were far too many chores growing up, and then the threat on his life during his time at Hogwarts. Not dying had been paramount in his mind before. Now, without anything in the way, he wondered if he should try.

"Tibby!" he called. She appeared with the tale-tell popping sound.

"Master Harry, sir. Tibby is here. What is Tibby to do?" she asked, fiddling with her little dress.

"Could you look in the library for any books on music, and learning how to play?" he asked.

She nodded. "Is Master Harry learning to play?"

Harry smiled, running his fingers over the keys lightly. "Yes, I think I will."

Another POP, and Tibby was gone. Sometime later, she reappeared, baring a single book. "Tibby is only finding one book, Master Harry." She held it out, her expression one of anxiety. Harry took it with a smile, thumbing through the contents. It showed enough to the basics to help him get started.

"Thank you, Tibby. This will do fine for now." He began reading immediately, immersing himself in the lessons of notes and techniques.

So became his habit. After Severus left in the morning, Harry would wander back into the music room, arranging himself comfortably at the piano. His belly was growing each day, but was still small enough to not cause a problem as he played. He began small, as beginners ought to do. Soon, though, his thirst for a challenge reared its head. The simple tunes and scales were not enough. He wanted something harder, something that would resound with his soul.

Tibby was sent out to find more books, returning from Diagon Alley leaden down with several. If the proprietors at Flourish and Blotts thought it strange to see a house elf buying such things and putting them on Harry Potter's tab, they said nothing of it. They knew better than to question the great Saviour of their World.

Harry soon found he had an affirmation with Pachelbel's _Canon in D Major_, and Beethoven's _Moonlight Sonata_. The two pieces soundly hammered into his very soul, the notes driving different emotions throughout the room. He could lose himself in the weave of musical web for hours at a time, often unaware of the passage of time.

* * *

It was on a rainy spring day a month into his stay, that Severus came home to a darken house. Stopping in the entryway, he looked about for any indication of Harry's whereabouts. As Tibby had not come to get him, he surmised nothing was amiss. Climbing the stairs, he decided to check Harry's room, as it was the most likely place to find the Gryffindor.

Reaching the landing, he stopped, surprised as the darkly sweet strains of _Moonlight Sonata_ reached his ears. Changing his direction, he made his way to the music room, pausing in the open doorway. There, bathed in myriads of candles, surrounded in a soft golden glow, sat the Golden Boy. His fingers deftly moved across the keyboard with the skill of a natural. His eyes were closed, his expression a slight frown.

Severus propped himself up against the doorjamb, allowing the haunting music to wash over him. The tune he had heard many times, but never with this much pain. The notes fairly cried as Harry's fingers caressed the keys. Unable to stop, Severus found himself once again drawn to the younger man's side, halting just out of his line of sight. His new position gave him a perfect view of Harry's face, and he watched mesmerized as a multitude of emotions seemed to play with each stanza. As the music reached its crescendo, Severus was shocked to see a single tear slip down Harry's cheek, the music wailing of heartbreak.

Finally, the last few notes died away, the silence thick in the air. Harry placed his hands in his lap, his head bowed, glowing as a dark halo in the dimmed light. He sobbed softly, thinking he was still alone. Severus was at a loss of what to do. He wanted to reach out and comfort the broken man, but years of distance and unused emotions kept his at bay. It had been so much easier when Harry had been sick. And before Severus had begun to feel so deeply for him.

Then the sobs turned to a shock yelp and Harry flew to his feet. Severus, thinking he had been discovered, took a step back, his shoe scuffing on the hard wood floor. Harry spun around suddenly, his eyes wide and still glistening with his tears. But it was the amazing smile on his face that stopped Severus' retreat. His hand was grasped as Harry leaped forwards. Quickly, it was placed on Harry's tummy, Harry's eyes locked on his with untold joy.

Unsure what was going on, Severus moved to reclaim his hand, but found it held even tighter. "Just wait," Harry whispered. Severus did. Then, moments later, a quick little flutter touched his palm. His onyx eyes flew downwards and back up to Harry's. "You felt it right?" Harry asked.

Severus nodded, still wide eyed. The feeling came again, and Harry let go of his hand, resting his own on top of it. "She moved," Severus said.

Harry let out a giggle. "It's amazing, isn't it?"

"Is this the first time?" the overcome man asked, keeping his hand on Harry's tummy. It was truly amazing, a miracle.

Nodding, Harry smiled serenely. "Yeah. It seems a little early. Usually women don't feel their babies move until the fourth or fifth month. But I guess it's different for men."

Severus had to agree. It seemed the baby was growing at a quicker rate than a normal pregnancy. And if St. McClowd's account was anything to go by, then the length of the pregnancy was considerably shorter, by 3 months it seemed.

"You have a check up tomorrow, do you not?" Severus asked, mentally going over their individual calendars.

"At ten o' clock," Harry replied. He peeked up at Severus shyly. "Would you like to go with me?"

"I think that might be feasible. I'll inform Richards of my absence for the morning."

"Alright," Harry said, happy with Severus' decision. He had no problem going on his own. And yet, it was so much nicer when Severus accompanied him. He was grateful for the time the busy man could spare for him, especially as Severus had no obligation to Harry or his child. It made him wonder briefly if Draco would have been so caring, had he been involved.

His good mood effectively ruined at that thought, he dropped his hand, Severus' moving off his tummy as well. He turned away, carefully closing the lid of the piano after one more caress of the keys.

Severus could feel the change in mood and wondered what had brought it about. He turned his attention to the instrument. "I was unaware you played," he said.

Harry shrugged. "I didn't, at least not until recently. It wasn't like I've had the time to do so, you know."

Severus raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Surely your Muggle relatives would have provided lessons if you had wanted them."

Harry laughed. "Oh yes, because my every wish was granted by them," he replied sarcastically. "Severus, whatever misconceptions you held about me and my life during my time with them is just that- misconceptions. I wasn't the pampered child like most thought me." He sank back down onto the bench with a wince. The baby was really having at it.

"Explain," demanded Severus, his tone dark.

Harry waved his hand about. "You saw pieces of it during our Occlumency lessons. But those were mere tidbits of my life. It was nothing for me to go without meals for days, pushed into menial chores without breaks and physically roughed up when I did something wrong, whether real or not." He scoffed, running a finger over the lid. "Believe me when I say the last thing they would have given me was piano lessons."

Severus conjured a seat and sat down heavily. "Did Dumbledore know of this?" he asked quietly.

Harry shrugged again. "I don't know. I like to think he didn't. After all the manipulations he put me through, I still hold the hope he was unaware of my years before Hogwarts, and my summers there. In all honesty, I try not to think about it too much anymore."

Running a hand over his face tiredly, Severus nodded. He could understand that all too well. Hadn't his own early home life been less than ideal? Had he not suffered at the hands of his father many times over? And yet, Dumbledore had been there for him, helped him get out of the situation. Even if it was a trade for the position as spy, a trade that dogged his shadow for years to come. Somehow, he couldn't quite agree with Harry's assessment of Dumbledore's lack of knowledge. The man was too wise for his own good. "And you went back each summer during Hogwarts?" he clarified.

"Yeah, it wasn't like I had anywhere else to go, at least not until after Sirius would have been cleared." A deep sadness tinged Harry's voice and he looked out across the room. "But we know that didn't happen. So it was back to the Dursley's." He ran a hand through his locks, leaving them more mussed than usual. He smiled wearily. "It wasn't too bad."

His ending sentiment fueled a flame inside Severus. He had heard that statement too many times, even having said it himself. He was out of his chair and grasping Harry's arms, his grip almost bruising, in moments. Harry's eyes, bright and wide, looked up at him, seeing the anger in their dark depths. "Severus?" he whispered.

"_Never say that again," _the dark man hissed. "It is always bad, it is never okay for any child to go through what you did. Family's meant to be there for you, no matter what. They are the anchor that keeps you grounded, the cave you can hide in and the blanket to keep you warm. What you had wasn't a family, it was a travesty." His hands were shaking. Harry nodded, swallowing heavily. He placed his own hands over his ex-professor's.

"I know that, I really do." He paused, looking deep into those endlessly black eyes. "Which is why this little one will never have to say what I did." He watched as Severus' expression softened. The grip on his arms lessened, becoming more of a caress than a hold. "I'm determined to give her the life I never had." He smiled. "Including piano lessons if she wants them."

Severus' lips twitched, a tiny smile lighting across his face. He nodded briskly, dropping his hands and stepping back. "I'm quite sure you will," he said quietly.

Harry rolled his shoulders slightly and yawned. "Thanks, Severus. For everything."

Severus held out his hand. "Come. I believe it is time for dinner. Have you eaten lately?" he inquired.

Harry flushed and shook his head. "I had a light lunch earlier. In here, when I'm playing, I tend to lose track of time." He took Severus' hand, allowing the older man to pull him to his feet. He rubbed a hand across his lower back, a pained expression on his face. "This being pregnant is for the birds, I tell you."

Severus' laughter lingered in the room long after they had left it for the evening.

* * *

**A/N:** I'm quiet overcome with the welcome this story has received and I humbly thank each one of you. The story alerts/faves and reviews make my day. I hope you will all continue on this journey with me.

Also, I am looking for a beta for my NaNo project, which will be a HP fict this year. Life has been too complicated for me to invent my own characters this time, as sad as I am about that. I will be shooting for 70,000 words this year, exceeding my 65k last year. It will be a HP/DM fict, with Snape as a mentor. Will also be MPreg and a hopefully convincing Dark Harry. The plot is ambitious and very intense. If you can spare the time, and are interested, please PM me and I'll discuss details with you.

As always, thanks and please enjoy. Next chapter will be done by Monday at the latest.


	4. Chapter 4

Standard Disclaimers apply, still. I own only the plot and OCs. Everything else belongs to JK Rowlings.

A/N 1: Just a quicky. Beware of rather angsy behaviors and a cliffhanger ending.

* * *

**Foolish Games Pt 4**

Evenings and weekends had become Severus' favorite times. They were relaxed, peaceful and non-productive. At least in a physical sense. These were the times, when Harry felt up to it, that the two unlikely friends could be found sitting quietly by the late spring fire in the library. Simple camaraderie benefited them both.

At times, they sat, each indulging in a book of his choice, pausing now and again to enlighten the other with an interesting point, or a funny line. Severus found it thoroughly enjoyable. Strange, it was. He usually despised company when he read, and the nagging voice laughing or asking questions would have brought about a quick hex on the offender. Harry, however, was quite the exception. Not only was the younger man well read, but also witty. Severus decided their time was as refreshing as a complex potion.

There were times, when the shadows were long and the fire dying, that Harry would speak. It was tentative at first, as if he was sure his old potions professor would judge him for his actions and thoughts. His words were mere whispers of memories, lost hopes and dead friends. It should have sounded macabre-ish; instead his words were rather poetic, weaving a picture of the younger man Severus was sure few had seen even glimpses of.

There were subjects that both knew were taboo: Harry's childhood and death, and Severus' years of service to a mad man. Neither thought the other could handle the realities they had experienced during those times. Harry was glad Severus did not press the issues as so many well meaning friends had done.

Not that Severus didn't wonder what details Harry kept secret. His glimpses into the haunted man's mind during their forced Occlumency lessons had made him more than a little curious, and their conversation a week ago in the music room had only furthered that thirst. However, he understood that for Harry to tell him would be the ultimate show of trust, and he knew that Harry was far from that point.

Severus' reasons for sparing Harry the details of his servitude were deeper still. He had an idea of the terror Harry had experienced during his years as a target for the darkest wizard of their time. He had seen friends tortured, some even to the death. He had lost family and his innocence. At eleven, he was thrust into a world he didn't understand and told to save it from a maniac that hated the very whisper of his name. How the young man was still sane, Severus had questioned many times.

He watched the firelight play across the thin face, Harry's lips drawn into a firm line that paled the skin. One of his hands lay protectively across his growing belly, while the other picked at the blanket across his legs. His book had long since been forgotten, sitting harmlessly on the couch beside him. His eyes were focused on the flames, but Severus suspected he was seeing places far beyond the fireplace.

Tonight, they had been quieter than most nights, a harsh spring storm waging war outside the windows. The rain fell hard and an occasion rumble of thunder shattered the silence. Severus didn't mind; he enjoyed the tumultuous weather. Harry, though, seemed to have turned introspective as the storm lingered. The slump of his shoulders spoke volumes to Severus, who had become accustom to his companions little nuances.

"You haven't been sleeping well again, have you?" Severus asked, his words cutting through the silence that had permeated the room for over an hour.

Harry gave a little start and his head whipped over in Severus' direction. He gave a small shrug, then turned his head guiltily away. "I don't usually go this long without the Dreamless Sleep potion."

"It's reckless to take as much as you were. Not to mention the effects it could have on your daughter," Severus admonished.

Harry's eyes flashed. "I know that!" he spat. Then he sank back with a long sigh. "I just dream all the time when I don't take it."

Severus nodded slightly. "Nightmares you mean?"

Harry ducked his head, his fingers flexing repeatedly. "Nightmares, memories, I'm not sure there is much of a difference for me. They overlap, usually. Sometimes, it's hard to figure out where one leaves off and the other begins." He rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Besides, this little one thinks my sleeping time is best used for her tumbling time." He smiled softly, his eyes filled with love for his daughter. Severus was again struck by the quiet strength the man displayed. Lesser individuals would have resented the child borne of heartache. But not Harry. No, he loved his child despite it all.

"How did your appointment go?" Severus asked, changing the subject.

Harry shook his head. "It was alright. Robert suggested we begin having them here at the house. Less chance of being seen." He patted his tummy. "After all, it is becoming increasingly harder to hide my…er… condition."

Severus nodded. "Indeed. You've been incredibly fortunate up until now, I think."

"Yeah, I'd be in a world of trouble if someone saw me. The media would have a field day, even without Rita Skeeter."

Severus sneered. "That woman is a vulture."

Harry chuckled. "No kidding. I remember what she did at the Tri-Wizard Tournament." Then he sobered again. It had been the beginning of the end, especially after the final task. He turned back to the fire. "I'll never forget that night, in the graveyard, you know. There's something about seeing your first dead body that sticks with you." He shivered slightly. Severus remained silent, allowing the younger man a chance to continue. "It never got any easier, either. Each death…it's ingrained in here." He pointed to his head. "They never go away. Sometimes, I think they are calling out to me, asking me why it had to happen to them. And I can't answer them, because I just don't know." Harry paused, raising a trembling hand to his temple. "They say Fate deals us a hand, and we have to do something with it. So why did Fate deal that hand to them? Why Remus and Tonks? Didn't they deserve to live? Didn't Teddy deserve to have his parents with him?" His voice broke with a soft sob.

"I ask myself those questions too, Harry. I wonder why I lived when others did not," Severus' quiet voice answered.

Harry glanced over at his companion briefly. "And?" he asked.

Severus shook his ebony head. "I simply don't know." Silence swirled around them, almost tangible, each man caught in his own memories.

And then, Harry swiped at his eyes with a sniff, and asked "What happened after I left?"

Severus' hand clinched on his knees before he got to his feet and walked over to his wet bar. Pouring a finger of bourbon into a glass, he knocked it back, then filled it again. He clutched the glass tightly in his hand, making his way over to the fireplace. One hand braced on the fireplace's ledge, he focused his attention on the flames. This was not a conversation he could have sitting down.

Harry watched as the man he had come to respect moved restlessly about. He bit his lip, wondering if he should have kept quiet. It was a touchy subject, he was sure. But he was curious, nonetheless. Cautiously, he leaned forward. "Severus?" he whispered.

"I remember the hissing sounds you made, Harry. You were talking to Nagini, weren't you?" Severus' voice sounded hollow.

"I was, yes. I asked her to spare you, in return, she could rest in peace, finally."

"Explain," Severus demanded sharply.

"Nagini experienced the same horrors I did when connected to Voldemort." He watched as Severus flinched slightly. "She was in an extreme amount of pain at that time, and wanted nothing more than to be done with it all. I knew she would have to die; she was a horcrux after all. But it didn't have to be too torturous."

"So you made a deal?" Severus asked, his hand raising up to touch the slight scars on his neck.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. She agreed to bite you, but withhold the poison, in case Voldemort returned to inspect the damage. You would lose some blood and it would look like you had died. In return, when Neville killed her, he did it with one clean cut."

"How gracious of you," Severus snorted sarcastically. Although, he supposed it was kind in a way. He had no idea the huge snake held such feelings. And his reasons made sense. If the Dark Lord had come back, and Severus was without injury, or evidence pointing to it, things could have gone in a much different direction. "You had Blood Replenishing potions on you. Why?"

Harry shrugged. "We were in a war," he said simply, as if that made all the difference. "Who came, after I left? Who helped you?"

Draining his glass, Severus turned and pinned the young man with a dark look. "Draco. And Luna."

"Ah," Harry replied, and said nothing more. A few minutes later, he rose awkwardly to his feet, his hand rubbing at his back. "I think I'll head up to bed now. Goodnight, Severus," he said quietly, his face drawn and dark circles beginning to show on his pale skin.

Severus frowned, but nodded. "Goodnight, Harry. Sleep well." He watched as the younger man shuffled out of the room and listened as he climbed the stairs. When the sound of Harry's door closing floated down to him, he ran a hand through his hair with a heavy sigh. Things had been so chaotic that day. Had it really only lasted a day? He closed his eyes, allowing himself to remember everything from that horrific incident.

* * *

"_Look at me," his voice was raspy, the blood soaking from his neck and onto the dirty wooden floor. Harry knelt next to him, his green eyes wide and gleaming with a fierce determination. Severus' shaking hand clutched at Harry's arm, holding him with a tight grasp. Their eyes met and Severus pulled all his memories to the forefront. He watched detachedly as the memories formed a hazy mist around them before drifting down upon Harry._

_Harry sat there stunned for a moment. Then he pressed a vial to his professors lips. "Drink this. It will help. The bite isn't as bad as it looks."_

_Severus' eyes clouded a bit, but he did as he was told. Confusion reigned as the potion slipped down his throat, the rich rusty taste telling him it was a Blood Replenishing potion, one of his own, in fact. He opened his mouth to speak, but could only gasp in air. _

"_Be quiet and just rest here a moment. I'll send someone to help you as soon as I'm able." He wrapped Severus' fingers around another vial. "Do you think you can drink this one? I have to go." _

_Severus raised his arm slowly, showing the frantic boy he could. A brief look of relief flooded through Harry's green eyes before sorrow took over. He smoothed his hand through the lanky hair. "Take care, professor. I hope your life is good." Then he was on his feet and rushing out of the Shrieking Shack. _

_Severus laid there, how long he knew not. He could hear the raging sounds of war outside, the screams and howls of the injured and dying, the snarls and cries of those not quite human. After a while, he drank the second potion, grimacing at the taste. He contemplated Harry's parting words. They sounded strangely like goodbye. Tiredly, he closed his eyes._

_The heavy sounds of running feet woke him a bit later. He opened his eyes and turned his head. Taking stock of his aches and pains, he was surprised to find he had complete function over his limbs. His head was pounding, and his neck felt sticky, but other than that, he would live. So many emotions ran through him, ranging from anger to confusion._

"_Professor! Professor Snape!" The frantic drawl of his godson had never sounded so good. Draco fell to his knees beside his godfather. "Severus, you're okay!" _

"_I told you he was fine. Harry made sure of it, didn't he?" Luna Lovegood's soft voice asked. _

"_Yes," Severus growled, his throat horribly sore. Luna smiled as Draco helped Severus into a sitting position. "The damnable boy decided rescuing me was worth his time. I cannot fathom why, however."_

_Luna handed him another vial, this one a pain potion. Severus drank it, then scowled. "Raiding my stores, I see." _

_Luna shrugged. "You are the best, it would be silly of us to use someone else," she replied. Severus could find no argument with her logic. He turned to his godson. The boy looked frazzled and burnt. _

"_What happened to you?" he asked. _

_Draco shook his head sadly, his pinched features looking even more so. "Crabbe set a fiendfyre in the Room of Requirement. We barely got out. He didn't."_

"_Foolish boy," Severus spat. _

_Draco shrugged. "Yeah, well, it seems Potter has a strange desire to save Slytherlins today."_

_Severus raised a brow. "Indeed?"_

_Luna smiled. "He saved Draco here. Pulled him up out of the fire. Or so Ron said."_

_Severus was taken aback, but hid it well. He smirked. "And where, exactly, is our boy wonder?" he asked, his voice laced with contempt._

"_Dead," Luna replied. _

_It took a lot for Severus Snape to be rendered speechless. This, however, was one of those exceptions. Even Draco seemed stunned. _

"_Come again?" he asked. _

_Luna stood, brushing off her clothes. "You asked where Harry is. He's dead. At least at the moment." She looked around at the shocked expressions on the two men's faces. "He won't remain so, you know. He has to finish the job. But he needed to talk to Dumbledore first. He'll be back, soon." She smiled serenely, holding out her hand. "Shall we go? I think it best we find a place to hide for a bit."_

_Silently, Severus took the tiny pale hand, sharing a look with Draco. The boy looked positively ill. The pain that flashed through those steel grey eyes caused Severus to pause in wonderment. _

_It was only later that Severus realized the depth of Harry's sacrifices that day._

_

* * *

_

He shook his head, returning to the present and his warm library. He could hear the pacing footsteps above him, and knew Harry was still awake. He walked across the floor to the door and up the stairs. Once outside Harry's room, he stopped. What was he honestly hoping to gain here? He simply didn't know.

After a few minutes, the noise inside quieted and Severus figured Harry had settled in for the night. Unsure of his own motives anymore, he turned away from the door. Someday he would say what Harry's sacrifice had meant to him.

But not tonight.

* * *

Harry's deep sigh of relaxation was heartfelt. He laid back on his own bed in his own home and decided nothing had ever felt better. His hands smoothed over the silk duvet.

"Master Harry is being happy at home," Tibby observed from the doorway as she brought in a tea tray. Harry sat up slowly and nodded.

"Yes, Master Harry is very happy to be home. I haven't been back in a while, have I?"

Tibby placed the tea on the bedside table and stood hopping from foot to foot with a grin. "Nos. Home is been missing Master Harry too. Master Severus' house is being nice, but no place like home."

Harry picked up a tea cup and took a sip. "No, no place like home. Is Severus getting settled?" he asked.

"Severus is already settled," the Potions Master's silky voice floated in from the doorway. Harry looked up and offered a small smile. He gestured to the remaining tea cup. Severus strode across the room and took it, sitting down into a chair placed conveniently beside the bed.

"Is everything alright? Do you need anything?" Harry asked.

"I'm fine, Harry." Severus looked about the room, then back to the lounging man. "I'm sorry we haven't been back before now."

Harry waved his hand about. "I'm not complaining, Severus. Your work has been rather busy lately. And I'm fine at your house, you know."

Severus frowned at Harry's patronizing tone. "I wasn't making excuses, Mr. Potter." He stood stiffly. "I think I'll go see to the dinner arrangements."

Harry realized his blunder. "Sev…"

"Don't, Harry," Severus cut him off tersely. "I'll leave you to your rest. Send Tibby down when you wake." Without a backwards glance, he left the room, his heavy footsteps resounding on the staircase as he went down the stairs.

Harry bit his lip, his eyes pained. Somewhere in that conversation, he had managed to insult the proud man. He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck with a groan, flopping back onto his bed once again. No matter their progress, there was still something, some deep animosity that kept rearing its head. And for the life of him, he didn't know how to fix it.

He was eternally grateful for all the help Severus had given him; the time he had taken to be there for Harry during this ordeal. But he wasn't sure Severus knew that. Had he been so lost in his own world that he had neglected to show his gratitude? He knew he would have been lost without the stoic man. It was time Severus knew it too.

With a renewed sense of determination, he closed his eyes, letting his tired mind drift away.

* * *

Severus refused to think about their previous interaction. Picking up a book, he fell into a chair, intent in losing himself in the text. Fate, it seemed, had other ideas. The floo roared to life, revealing a red headed man who looked around the room in confusion.

"He's not here, Hermione," Ronald Weasley's voice said with annoyance. "We've checked everywhere else I can think of. I guess we'll just have to wait until he calls us, or something." He was about to pull his head in when a deep voice stopped him.

"If you are looking for Mr. Potter, he is upstairs resting," Severus said in irritation. He knew he had been lucky so far, not having to deal with the brat's friends. Apparently, that was now to change. It struck him as strange that Harry had not contacted them before.

"Snape!" Ron spat, the tone of his voice suggesting the name left a sour taste on his tongue. "Where's Harry?"

Severus rolled his eyes. Harry may have redeemed himself in Severus' opinion, but a Weasley was still a Weasley, and Ron was one of the more imbecilic members of the group. "As I have already said, he is upstairs, resting. Really, Mr. Weasley, if you insist on asking the same questions repeatedly, I will be forced to hex you," he intoned.

Ron's face looked to pale, although it was hard to tell with the green flames already tingeing his skin. Combined with his red hair, he really was quite a sight. "Why are you there, then? Can't see how he'd get any rest with a greasy git like you hangin' around."

The book shut with a loud snap as Severus put it purposely aside. He rose from his chair, his presence still as intimidating as ever. It was a skill he had honed over the years, and still effective with ones like Ron. "If you must know, I was dropping off Mr. Potter's potions. He requested I look over something for him." The lie slipped easily off his tongue. His years of spying never failed him.

Ron's lip curled into a sneer rivaling Severus' own. "Right, like he'd ever do that. If he wanted you around, why isn't he there with you?"

Severus clinched his fists tightly, resisting the urge to push the fool's head back through the fire. He opened his mouth to send a sting retort, but was cut off by a sweet female voice.

"Honestly, Ron, grow up." Hermione Weasley's face popped in next to her husband's. She shoved him out of the way this a glare, then turned an apologetic face to her ex-professor. "I'm sorry, Professor. Ron's a total prat sometimes. Just ignore him." She smiled. "I'm sorry if we disturbed anything," she said, glancing around the room quickly. "We're just a bit worried about Harry. We haven't seen nor heard from him in weeks. After the whole Quiddich debacle, he kinda disappeared off the grid."

Severus inclined his head amicably. Granger may have been a know-it-all in school, but she at least manners. "I wasn't aware he hadn't contacted you. He's here now, although he is presently indisposed."

Hermione nodded, frowning. "Professor, is he alright? You said something about potions? He's so private anymore; I doubt he would say anything, even if he needed help."

"That, Mrs. Weasley, you will have to ask him yourself. I'll let him know you called, shall I?" Severus asked. Yes, Harry would have to be the one to answer his friends. Severus knew it was neither his place, nor his obligation to do so. Why the boy had put it off until now was beyond him.

Hermione bit her lip but nodded. Obviously she wasn't satisfied with his comments, but she knew better than to press the surly Potions Master. "Yes, fine. Please do. We shall await his call. And Professor," she leveled her gaze at the man, a protective look in their depths, "Let him know we miss him. No matter what's going on, we're still here for him."

Severus understood her request and nodded. "Of course. Goodbye, Mrs. Weasley." The floo flared once more before returning to the normal orange flames. He stood, watching them in silence. He found himself dreading the confrontation that was sure to come from Harry's friends inquiries. Pressing his fingers to his forehead, he tried to stave off a blooming headache, but to no avail. He had two options, although neither looked promising. On one hand, he could tell Harry right away, and get the whole thing over with. On the other, he could wait until the weekend was over. However, knowing the two Gryffindors, they would call back sometime soon. Besides, the second option seemed a bit cowardly. And Severus Snape was no coward.

* * *

It was well after dinner time when Harry finally woke up. His room was dark, except for a single candle on the bedside table. He had made sure the cottage was outfitted with Muggle electricity when he moved in. Nevertheless, he enjoyed the simplicity of magic, and found himself using it more than his Muggle appliances.

He stretched, his back arching off the bed as he yawned. A quick look at the clock on the table told him it was close to ten 'o clock. Shocked, he scrambled off the bed, wincing as the baby kicked in her displeasure. He smiled and rubbed his tummy. "Sorry, love. Daddy just realized how late it really is. Severus must be beyond irritated now," he reflected. After using the bathroom, a new aliment he had recently discovered, he smoothed down his hair and walked down the stairs.

"I see you have finally decided to grace us with your presence," Severus' dark tones sliced through the air. Harry paused outside the library, unwilling to completely come into the room. The older man was in a right foul mood, he could tell. Gathering his courage, he shuffled into the room, glancing at Severus's ridged back. The man sat in his chair stiffly, holding a glass of wine. The firelight flicked about the room, casting long shadows all around.

"I seem to have slept later than I intended. Sorry," Harry said.

"Yes, well, now we can perhaps have dinner?" Severus said, sneering slightly. Harry tensed, unsure why the man was in such a mood.

"You didn't have to wait on me, Severus. You could have eaten. I would have gotten something to eat later," Harry told him, hoping to nullify the icy air in the room.

Severus stood up, his black eyes pinning the younger man before him. Harry looked so small suddenly, his eyes wide and confused. He did not feel particularly inclined to alleviate said confusion. He was angered at Harry's refusal to be forthcoming with his friends, and somehow the whole situation irked him. He swept past Harry without another glance.

"Well." He paused a moment, waiting for Harry to follow. "We don't want to keep Tibby waiting."

Harry, still completely lost, followed silently, his hands stuffed in his pocket and his expression drawn. The meal that followed was silent and uncomfortable for both. Severus spent his time resolutely ignoring Harry, and Harry strove to keep his eyes from following the older man's every move. As the dishes were cleared, Severus finally broke the silence.

"Your friends called this afternoon while you were napping."

Harry's head shot up from his nearly full plate of treacle tart. "Ron and Hermione?" he asked. Severus jerked his head. Harry paled suddenly. "What did they want?"

"They inquired as to your whereabouts. It seems you have neglected to tell them of your new circumstances. They were quite surprised to see me here," Severus said, his voice deepening in anger. He folded his hands, leaning forward. "I do not appreciate needing to lie for you, Potter."

Harry shoved his plate away in irritation. "I didn't ask you to, did I?" he shot back.

Severus' lip curled. "And what would you have had me say, Potter? 'Oh, I'm here to baby-sit your friend because he's pregnant and can't be left alone?' I assure you, that would go over oh so well."

Feeling his temper rise, Harry stood, his seat falling backwards in his haste. "What did you tell them?" he asked suspiciously.

Snorting, Severus rose as well. "I simply said you were resting and any other questions would have to be answered by you. I am not your messenger boy, Mr. Potter. Nor am I your owl. I foster no responsibility towards you or your child."

"I know that!" Harry snarled. "I haven't asked anything of you, have I?"

"You haven't needed to. I have made sure your every need is taken care of before you ask," Severus reminded him. Harry knew it was true, but push it aside. "That is irrelevant, however. Tell me, Potter, when were you planning on telling your little fan club of your predicament? After the baby is born?"

Harry began to pace the room, his steps unsteady, his hands tugging at his locks in anger. "I don't know. I haven't decided," he shot back. "Why do you care, anyway? It's not like you even like them."

"Indeed, I do not. However, you will need help in the coming months, and they deserve to know," Severus replied.

Harry barked out a harsh laugh. "Since when do you have the right to tell me what to do? Especially when it comes to my personal life."

The look that flashed in those black black eyes would have warned a lesser man to back off. "Since you came into my care, and the safety of you and your child became my concern. I can't be around all the time. And you _will_ need help, Potter." His voice dipped down, sending an unpleasant shiver along Harry's spine. "I may not like your friends, but they care about you. Although right now, for the life of me, I can't fathom why. You don't deserve it."

Harry looked like he had been slapped. He took a step back, his lips pulled back in an ugly smile. "Like you know what it's like to have any friends, Snape. You were such a fucken' great one to my mum, weren't you? You wouldn't know what caring was if it bit you in the arse."

Severus was across the room and before Harry in seconds. His hand raised up, heading swiftly for Harry's face. Harry closed his eyes, bracing himself for the impact. It may have been years since he had last felt the stung of a physical blow, but his body still remembered the way to react. He waited, his breath shuttering out of his body.

When nothing happened after several seconds, he opened his eyes to see a shattered Severus before him. The man was beyond pale, staring at his hand as if he had never seen it before. His eyes flickered from his palm to Harry, his eyes wide and stunned. Just as swiftly, he dropped it. "Do not presume you know anything about me," he hissed out. Then spinning on his heel, he fairly ran from the room.

The slamming of a door upstairs snapped Harry out of his shock. His knees gave way as he sunk down onto the floor. Burying his face in his hands, he whispered "What have I done?"

"Master Harry is being sad?" Tibby's squeaky voice asked him.

"No, Master Harry has been very bad and hurt Master Severus," came Harry's muffled answer.

Tibby wrung her hands in confusion. "Tibby bring Master Severus bandages then?"

"I don't think that will help, Tibby. This is something I…" Harry fell forward, his hands slapping the floor as he braced his body. Pain laced poker hot through his abdomen and he nearly screamed at the feeling. Panting for a breath, his body shook fiercely.

"Tibby," he gasped out. "Get Master Severus. I think something's wrong with the baby." He heard the POP of her departure before blazing pain and sheer blackness overtook him.

* * *

A/N 2: *faints* I have never, and I do mean never, had a story get this kind of welcome. Honestly, I just have no idea what to say. The reviews have been so wonderful, and truly driving me to write more, and hopefully better. So thank you from the very bottom of my little heart. I do so hope you enjoyed this one as well.

I just wanted to make a note, as someone very sweetly pointed out the emotions in this tale. I am a mother of 3, and my pregnancies were all very difficult. I am basing Harry's feelings and situations on my own experiences, even though his are at an accelerated rate. For me, when I read something, I best relate to the characters when the emotions seem real and not contrived. I hope this holds true for this story as well. Thank you once again.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer.. blah, blah,.. not mine. Well, Robert is *squeezes Robert.* Isn't he delightful?

A/N1" Still somewhat angsty. Sorry folks, not likely to clear up too soon.

* * *

**Foolish Games Pt 5**

Severus could not recall the last time he had felt so out of control. Even in all his years as a turncoat spy for Dumbledore he had not felt the rage he had just swam in. The urge to break something, to crush anything with his bare hands was almost overwhelming. Of course it would be Potter to break his walls of iron clad control. The brat had always managed to make him _feel_ when he was sure he had pushed any and all emotions deep down in the innermost recesses of his being.

He slammed the door with a satisfying sound, and sat down on the end of the bed. It wasn't as large as the one he had in his own home, but still big enough for him, and soft. It was a strange off-handed thought to have, particularly considering all that had just occurred. He raised his hand, the one that had almost struck Harry, and looked at it as if he had never seen it before. He flexed it, his brow drawn into a deep frown. It looked normal and moved as it should.

And yet, it appeared as foreign as if it were covered in fur. He couldn't quite believe what he had almost done. During all his interaction with Potter, even while at Hogwarts, even after he had found the stubborn boy peeking into his Pensive, even when he had cursed him as he fled the castle after killing Dumbledore, he had never…_never_ moved to strike the younger man.

What had driven him to this? Was it the harsh truth Harry had shoved in his face? He disliked thinking of his actions towards the only real friend he had ever had. What he had said and done was unforgivable in his eyes, and he had spent a life time trying to atone for it. Harry was completely right and justified in his accusations. Severus had no doubt about that.

So why? Why did those words hurt Severus so badly? The pain that had knifed through his chest reminded him of the burn a _Crucio _curse held. That hand came up and fisted in his hair, his head bowing in remorse. Harry was given to erratic mood swings, his hormones dictating his words and actions for the most part. It was all part of his pregnancy. Thus, however uncomfortable, he had an excuse.

Severus, on the other hand, had none. At least none that he wished to examine. He had grown too close to the pregnant man, allowed him too close to his heart. He _felt_ when in his presence. Hence, his reactions. This had to stop, the sooner, the better for them both, Severus decided. He would continue his care of Harry until the baby was born, and then he would get the hell out of Dodge, or the U.K as the case may be. Meanwhile, he would do all he could to separate himself from Harry, endeavoring to rebuild his walls that much taller and stronger.

He would cease to feel once again. It was the only way he could stay safe.

_You're a bloody coward, Severus Snape,_ his mind cried in anger. _Harry was right. What do you know about caring?_

"Nothing!" he growled aloud. "I know nothing, and it shall remain so."

_No, you fool. You know too much. And you're scared. Scared you might actually be human underneath it all. _The inner voice sounded an awful lot like Lily. He buried his head in his hands, his breath shuddering through his frame.

"I failed you, Lil. I hurt you, and I will hurt Harry, eventually," he murmured.

"Then learn from your mistakes, Severus," a whisper of a voice surrounded him. His head snapped up swiftly, his eyes straining to find the source. Seeing nothing, he closed his eyes in anguish. Great, now he was losing his mind. A soft chuckle came to him. "You're not mental, Sev."

"Indeed? Conversing with spectral voices is of the norm, then?" he asked.

"Think of me as your conscious, Sev. The voice of reason you have ignored for far too long."

Severus sneered. "Oh yes, as that makes all the difference, doesn't it? Next you will be telling me I have fallen for the prat," he said in derision.

"Haven't you?" Lily asked knowingly.

Severus harsh bark of laughter crackled through the room. He opened his mouth to send a slamming retort to the ghostly voice, but was interrupted by the loud POP of Tibby appearing in his room. He turned his black eyes to the distraught house elf. The poor creature froze for a moment under the hard glare of the Potions Master. "What do you want?" he snapped.

Tibby's eyes widened and what looked like tears began to form. "Tibby is begging Master Severus' pardon, sir. But Master Harry bid me to find you."

Severus smirked darkly. "Did he now? And did your master give you a reason for his summons?"

Tibby clutched her little dress, tugging at it fitfully. "Master Harry is being ill again. He is falling down and saying something wrong with the babe," she wailed, biting on her thin lip.

Severus' heart sputtered to a stop. All bets were suddenly off. Any thought as to their fight, and remaining anger fled his body as he sprinted across his room. Students had referred to him as resembling a bat, and in that moment, as he flew down the stairs and into the dining room, he certainly gave credence to the rumor.

He came to a sudden stop in the open doorway of the dining room, his body frozen as he spotted the crumbled form of Harry lying on the floor. The younger man was still unconscious, his body curled into a protective ball around his enlarged stomach. Sweat had broken out over his skin, making his curly hair stick to his forehead, and his shirt damp. With trembling limbs, Severus fell to his knees beside the man, his hands touching his forehead and his tummy. Harry's skin burned at his touch, a harsh panting groan issuing from his parted lips. Harry clutched his hand tightly around his middle, the other digging his nails into the palm, leaving bloody crescent shaped marks.

Severus sprang into action, rising to his feet and rushing to the floo. He threw the powder in, barking out "Healer Robert!"

The Healer's face appeared in amidst the jade colored flames with a look of concern. "Severus?" He caught the worried look on the pale man's face and immediately stepped through. "What's the matter?" he asked.

"Harry," Severus said simply, spinning back around, and leading the Healer to where Harry lay.

Robert knelt next to Harry, feeling for a pulse. "Pulse weak, but steady. He's burning up. What happened?" he asked, running his wand over the prone man and frowning as the results began to appear. He pulled a few vials from his pouch, gently opening Harry's mouth and pouring them down his throat. He massaged the muscles, waiting until he was sure Harry had swallowed before looking up at Severus.

Severus turned his face away momentarily, then forced himself to watched the Healer work. "I don't know," he ground out. It was true, to a point. He wasn't sure physically what was wrong. However, he could only surmise that Harry's current condition was due somewhat to their argument.

"Has he complained of any pain, or ailments?" Robert inquired.

Severus shook his head. "Not to my knowledge. He did sleep an inordinate length of time today. He has appeared rather tired lately, more so than his usual." He paused, seeing the frown on the healers face.

"Any increased amount of emotional duress? Has he been eating well?"

Again, Severus had to look away from the piercing gaze coming from Robert. "He has complained of nightmares as of late. You know he hasn't been able to take the Dreamless Sleep potion, and it effects his quality of sleep. As for his eating habits, they are still rather unusual. At times, his appetite appears to be increasing. Then it drops off to nonexistent."

Robert nodded, reaching down to pick up Harry. The younger man moaned in pain, his brow furrowing. Severus reached out to push back his hair, then caught his action and pulled back. "His room?" Robert asked. Severus gestured, leading the healer from the dining room and up the stairs. He watched as Robert settled Harry on the bed, pulling a light blanket over his form. Immediately, Harry curled up again. Robert sat down next to him, running a hand along his spine gently. He waited until Harry had settled, then looked back to the hovering Severus.

"You didn't fully answer my question, Severus," he spoke quietly, a knowing expression on his face. "What sort of stress has he been under?"

Stubbornly, Severus met and held the other man's eyes. Then his cheeks flushed slightly. "We fought. This evening. I took my leave just before he collapsed."

Robert's expression darkened, his eyes flashing dangerously. "Physically fought?" His tone spoke of dire consequences if such were the case.

Severus had the grace to look astonished. "What do you take me for, Robert?" he growled, guilt pummeling his mind. His hand twitched in remembrance of his earlier actions. He shook his head fiercely, his black hair swaying around him. "No, it was verbal. Although, our words were just as sharp as any blows we might have traded."

Robert's head jerked in acknowledgment

. "I see. I suppose it is to be expected from you two, considering your pigheadedness. You are both too stubborn for your own good."

Severus said nothing, silently agreeing with the older man.

"But you, Severus, you should have known better, given Harry's condition. Need I remind you of the stipulations made when Harry was released into your care? It is critical that he remain calm and his magic under control," admonished Robert.

Severus' death glare returned full force. "I was unaware I am the only adult here, Robert. Harry is not a child, for all that he acts like one most of the time. He is just as responsible for his actions as I am for mine." Somewhere in the back of his mind, he called himself a hypocrite. Had he not just been reasoning that Harry's emotions were higher due to his condition?

"Yes, but Harry is pregnant, and so given to rather volatile mood swings. He isn't as in control as you are, or should be. You yourself said you were willing to act as mature adults. From what you have indicated, that has not been the case here tonight," Robert replied, echoing Severus' thoughts. The stoic man looked away.

"Will he be alright?" he asked finally, thoroughly chastised.

There was a long pause as Robert ran his wand over the sleeping Harry again. "His temperature is elevated and his magical stores have drastically decreased. I know Harry is a powerful wizard, but this pregnancy is doing a bloody number on his magical core. His physical exhaustion and lack of regular substance has increased the strain on his body." He ran a tired hand over his face. "I just don't have enough information to know what will happen should this continue."

"And the baby?" Severus asked quietly, his heart hammering in his chest.

"She's fine. A bit distressed, but the heart beat appears normal, and she is moving around at a steady pace, all of which point to her staying put for the time being," Robert replied. He glanced back to Harry as the young man turned over onto his back, a deep sigh coming from him. His features scrunched up for a moment, then softened as he relaxed into a deep sleep.

"For the time being?"

Robert nodded. "Yes." He pinned the Potions Master with an apprehensive look. "I think we should be prepared for an early delivery. With the way Harry's body is handling everything, it is quite possible he will be unable to carry to term. At least not without extreme damage to himself and possibly the baby."

Silence descended thickly over the three men. "I will return to Hogwarts tomorrow morning, to see if there is anything I might have missed in my prior research of St. McClowd's pregnancy," Severus said tiredly.

"That might be best. The key will be keeping Harry calm and relaxed. I want him resting as much as possible. We still have almost three months left, if he carries to term. No more stairs. I want him on the ground floor, both here and at your place." Robert stood, walking over to his bag and drawing out several vials. He placed them in Severus' hand. "I want him to take a nutrient potion with each meal, and this antibiotic for the next three days. His white count is a little high; I suspect he has the start of an infection. This should head it off before it becomes a problem."

Severus closed his hand around the vials and nodded. "Is there anything else we should be concerned about?" he asked, his eyes flickering to the sleeping man.

"I'm a bit worried about his sleeping. You would know better than I. Is there a way you can modify his sleeping potion?"

Severus shrugged. "I am unsure. I will examine the ingredients and determine if there is something that can be changed without compromising the overall effect."

"Alright. Just think, Severus, you could find yourself in the middle of breakthrough." The Healer smiled lightly. Severus, however, grimaced. He was reminded of his earlier reasoning for undertaking Harry's care. Things had certainly changed since then. Robert's voice redirected his attention back to the Healer. "Please let me know if you uncover anything else at Hogwarts. Have you been keeping notes on Harry?"

"Yes. Harry has been as well. I think he keeps a journal of sorts. I have observed him writing in a tatty old book each day. I shall inquire when he awakens," Severus told him.

Robert shut his bag and glanced once more to the bed. "I know it's not my place to pry," he began. "But what were you arguing about? It must have been something personal for him to have such a reaction."

The instinct to snap at the Healer and remind him to mind his own business was great. However, Severus' guilt was far greater. "His friends. Two of them fire called today, worried about Harry. During the conversation, it became very apparent that Mr. Potter here neglected to tell his friends where he has been and why." He paused and scowled. "I dislike dealing with them, and took my irritation out on Harry. We had words, and I left. It was after that, that Tibby fetched me."

"Why has Harry put off talking to his friends? It has been my understanding that he is very close to Ronald Weasley and his wife. I would think he would want them to know." Robert looked puzzled.

Severus shook his head slightly. "So one would think. However, that isn't the case, it appears. I do plan to figure this out. Harry will need his friends, particularly after the baby is born."

Robert gave Severus a searching look. "You plan on leaving, don't you?"

"I don't know," came the quiet reply. A firm hand landed on his shoulder.

"Severus, I ask that you think about it seriously. I know you two aren't the most likely of friends. But this young man has come to depend on you. You yourself said he will need his friends. I'm sure he counts you as one of those. Leaving, just because you're afraid…" He leveled a look at the still man. "It may be the biggest mistake you will ever make." He squeezed Severus' shoulder tightly. "Think about it, okay? For Harry. And for yourself."

With a final pat, and look at Harry, the Healer smiled and left the room. Severus stood there, stunned for several minutes. He blinked unseeing eyes, allowing Robert's words to sink into his mind. Slowly, he moved across the room to stand beside his charge. As he had done before, his hand smoothed across Harry's cheek, tracing the contours of his face. His long fingers lingers briefly over Harry's scar before dropping away. Exhausted, he pulled up a chair and dropped into it with a groan. His eyes glued to Harry's face, he sat vigil long into the early morning hours. As the clock chimed the witching hour, Severus' heavy lids slid down, his head coming to rest on the bed beside Harry's hand.

And somewhere during the night, that hand unconsciously drifted into the ebony locks, a soft sigh coming from both men as they relished in the unintentional safety each offered the other. For the first time in weeks, they slept soundly, neither aware just how much they needed their companion. It was a sweetly beautiful sight, as Tibby the elf reflected, her strange little face stretched in a smile.

* * *

The sun was just touching the horizon when Harry's emerald eyes opened. He lay abed for a time, soaking in the bright shards of sunlight striking across his ceiling. He felt the baby move around more forcefully now, her kicks delivered with precision. She seemed to take great delight in jostling his innards, particularly his stomach and kidneys. It was one such blow that drove him out of bed this morning.

He began to roll over, then hastily stopped, a flabbergasted look on his face. Laying bent over, his head nestled in his folded arms on the bed, was Severus Snape. Harry took a moment to really examine the man beside him. His features, while never proclaimed beautiful, were rather classically fetching softened in sleep. Sure, his nose was large and overtly roman, and his lips thin. But like this, with the morning light turning his hair into spun silk and his long lashes brushing the hollows under his eyes, he was a lovely sight to see.

Until he opened his mouth and a great snore sounded. Harry quickly smothered a giggle, his eyes wide with delight. Who'd ever guess the prideful and stern man snored! Slipping out of his warm bed, his bladder crying incessantly for relief, Harry made his way over to his bathroom.

After finishing, he returned to his room once more. Severus still slept, his now loud snores filling the room. With a gleeful smile, Harry grabbed a blanket and placed it over Severus' shoulders before making his way out of his room and down the stairs.

_So he's human after all,_ he thought, looking through his fridge for something to tie him over until breakfast. He would cook, but he shuddered, remembering the last time he had tried in Tibby's presence. The little house elf nearly had a conniption. Truth be told, he didn't necessarily feel too comfortable standing near a hot stove in his condition. He found himself much more wary of potential hazards.

Thinking of the baby led him to recall the night before. The pain and then the blackness that followed frightened him to no end. Obviously something must have happened, something that worried Severus enough for him to spend the night beside Harry's bed. Harry never would have thought it possible for that level of caring to come from such a man. But the evidence was to the contrary and Harry wasn't going to baulk at it.

He rubbed his hand over his belly in a familiar way, soothing both himself and the baby. She settled down immediately and he sighed. Grabbing a piece of toast and the cup of tea Tibby had just placed in front of him, he carefully lowered himself down onto a kitchen chair. Now in his sixteenth week, He had begun to feel a bit more unsteady on his feet. He rubbed his lower back slightly, and took a sip.

"Master Harry be feeling better now?" Tibby squeaked, her eyes slightly twinkling. Harry cocked his head to one side.

"I am, thank you. What happened last night after I sent you for Snape?" he asked, curious. He wasn't sure what Severus' attitude would be this morning, and hoped to head off any confrontations.

Tibby began breakfast preparations, her ears moving back and forth on her head, as if listening for something. The light tread of footsteps sounded from upstairs, and Harry realized Severus had finally gotten up.

"Master Harry be in pain. Tibby gets Master Severus and he gets nice doctor man to come," Tibby answered, cracking eggs into a bowl. Harry propped his elbows up on the breakfast nook, watching the elf's movements.

"Healer Robert was here?" he inquired.

Tibby nodded. "Healer Robert is being a nice doctor, but upset with Master Severus."

Pulling a face, Harry said "What? Why?"

"Because, Harry, it seems I have been a bit bereft in my dealings with you. I promised to act as an adult, and I failed to do so last night," Severus cut in. Tibby continued with her task, although Harry saw her head bob in agreement. Harry swiveled slowly on his stool to face the brooding man.

"I see," Harry replied. Then he bit his lip and looked away, recalling the way Severus had looked that morning. His cheeks flushed slightly. "I'm sorry, Severus. For what I said last night, about my mum. I know you tried…"

Severus held up a hand, his black eyes flashing with an untold emotion. "Leave it, Harry. We both said things that were uncalled for. I would rather not revisit the subject, if you please." Harry nodded dumbly. Severus held his gaze a moment longer, than walked over to the coffee pot. Harry had discovered during the early part of their companionship that Severus preferred strong black coffee over tea in the mornings. Harry didn't mind. He found the aroma pleasant, now that he wasn't confined to the bathroom during breakfast time.

The room became silent except for the sizzling of the food Tibby was cooking and the drip of the coffee pot. The two men strove to ignore the elephant in the room, neither really sure what to say to break the ice. Severus poured a cup, wrapping his large hands around the steaming cup. Tibby transferred the eggs and hash browns to a couple of plates, her ears flicking up and down in confusion. Harry stood to take his plate.

"Sit," Severus commanded, picking up both plates and setting one before the annoyed young man. Harry grabbed his fork and promptly began to eat, surprised when Severus sat down next to him. The Potions Master pulled out two small bottles and placed them beside Harry's plate. "Robert said you are not receiving the right amount of nutrition again. And that your white cell count is somewhat elevated." Severus gestured to the potions. "He has requested you take a nutrient potion with each meal. The other is an antibiotic to ward off infection."

Harry nodded, looking at the bottles with a sour look. "Anything else I should know?" he asked bitterly. This morning was turning out to be just as upsetting as the night before.

Severus set down his cup, finally turning his attention to Harry. He saw the anger and underlying pain in the green depths. He sighed. He knew he was handling the situation in a completely counterproductive manner. "Harry," he paused, gathering his thoughts. He had just shied away from this very subject. But it was more than apparent that something needed to be said, the air to be cleared. "What happened last night was very dangerous, for both of you."

"And who's fault was that?" Harry snapped out, slamming his fork down. Tibby squawked at the sound and Harry shot her an apologetic look before returning his glare to Severus.

Severus fought back the urge to retort in like anger, remembering Robert's admonishment. "I apologize for my part in the fiasco last night. I should not have taken my irritation out on you. You had every right to say what you did. I on the other hand, should have made some allowances for your heightened emotions," he said calmly.

"What am I? A bloody freaken woman?" Harry cried, quite put out.

Severus held up a hand, silencing Harry's rant momentarily. "No," he shot back. "You're worse. You're a pregnant man who is unaccustomed to dealing with the level of changes and stress your condition is putting you through. I knew that, and should have minded my behavior accordingly. For that, I am very sorry."

Harry sat back, his head snapping back so fast he almost fell to the floor. He was at a loss for words. The sincerity that shone on the older man's face was beautiful to see. His onyx eyes shone with concern. Harry reached out before he knew what he was doing, and caressed the man's cheek. Severus allowed it a moment, relishing Harry's touch.

All too soon, Harry realized what he was doing and dropped his hand. He stood quickly, stumbling. Severus' hand shot out, steadying the pregnant man. "Thanks," Harry mumble, his cheeks red. "Er… I think I'll go shower." He took a few steps backwards, ready to flee the room.

"Wait." Severus had stood as well. Harry stopped. "In light of your rather fragile health, Robert has placed you under restrictions. He wants you confined to the lower levels of both houses. A fall from the stairs at this time would be disastrous. And as you are somewhat unsteady, it's not a chance you should be taking."

The urge to pout and stomp reared it childish head, but Harry pushed it away. He shivered, thinking of the night before. Had he been on the stairs when his blackout happened, he may have well ended up severely injured, or worse. So he nodded. "Alright. I'll shower in the downstairs bathroom. But I won't sleep on the couch," he said stubbornly. His back was painful enough without being scrunched on his sofa.

Severus watched as he walked, or rather waddled away, a slight smile touching his lips. Harry did look rather adorable, although he was sure the man would not appreciate such sentiments. Finishing his breakfast, he thought about their current problem. Knowing Harry, as he was coming to, he would not be happy stuck on the lower levels. He had a point about his sleeping arrangements. And at Severus' house, the music room was upstairs. With as attached as Harry had come to his music, he knew he would be lost without access to the piano.

Standing from his seat, he placed the plate in the sink, nodding once to Tibby as she hummed and began to wash the dishes. He still found it most unusual that the elf would do most tasks by hand. Elves possessed an innate magic much like the wandless sort some wizards were able to use. He had witnessed such displays many times at Hogwarts and other occupancies that employed the creatures. But never had he come across a creature quite like Tibby.

His musings were broken as he pushed in his chair. An idea struck him suddenly. It was rather genius in its simplicity and would fit Harry's needs wonderfully. And the look on Harry's face…he smiled genuinely. That would be reason enough.

Harry took his time in the shower, the heated water working out the kinks in his body. The tension from the night before washed away with the soap bubbles. He reflected heavily on the precariousness of his condition. From the expression on Severus' face as he delivered his apology, and the new restrictions, Harry could surmise that both his Healer, and the Potions Master were more than a little worried. Severus had not told him everything that had transpired during his bout of unconsciousness.

Uneasiness flooded through him as the baby moved around. What if there was something really wrong, something they weren't telling him? Panic replaced his unease as he turned off the water. Quickly, he stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his widening waistline. Carefully, he opened the bathroom door, the steam pouring into the hall.

"Severus," he called loudly. "Severus."

Severus' head popped out from the living room doorway. Confusion crossed his features, followed by anxiety. His steps ate up the floor as he came to the now trembling man's side. Placing his hands on Harry's still wet shoulders, he tried to focus his attention on the scared younger man's face, instead of the heat of his skin.

"What is it?" he asked.

Harry shook, his arms wrapped around his middle. "The baby. What did Robert say about the baby? Is something wrong with her?" he asked, his voice high with alarm.

Severus froze a moment, understanding the source of Harry's state. His hands relaxed on Harry's shoulders and he offered a rare smile. "Shh…no, Harry. The babe is fine. She was a bit distressed last night, due to your stress level. But Robert said she was doing fine," he spoke softly, as if to a spooked animal, his fingers making small squeezes on Harry's shoulders.

Harry visibly relaxed under his touch and he allowed a small smile to peek through. He bit his lip, suddenly aware of his state of undress. Blushing red, he nodded. "Uh, good. Thanks." He pulled away for the second time that morning.

"Get dressed Harry. Then come join me in the living room. I think I have worked out a solution to your mobility problem."

Harry turned to flee, but paused. "Severus," he said, his voice now calm and quiet. "You would tell me if there was something wrong, wouldn't you?"

Severus thought about the Healer's concerns for an early birth, but shoved it away. "Of course, Harry."

Harry nodded with another smile and walked away. And Severus felt his heart hit the bottom of his stomach. He had lied to the man. And he had no idea as to why.

Harry was back in record time, for a waddling pregnant man. He saw Severus' raised eyebrow, and understood. He grinned widely. "I keep a few sets of clothes in the linen closet down here," he explained.

Severus nodded briskly and motioned with his hand. "Come. I would like you to take a look at something," he invited. Harry followed him to the bottom of the stairway. There, floating in the air, was a comfortable looking chair.

Harry stared, then shot the smug man a puzzled look. "What's this, Severus?" he asked.

Severus was tempted to roll his eyes. "You surprise me, Potter," he smirked. "I do believe you forget you are a wizard on occasion." Harry had the grace to blush. "This," Severus continued, "is your means of travel to the upper levels of your home. I will install one at my house as well."

Harry walked closer, examining the chair. "You cast a _Windgardium Leviosa _charm on it," he said.

Severus nodded. "Very astute, Mr. Potter."

Harry gave him a dirty look. "Okay, so how does it work?" he asked.

Severus sighed. "You sit in it, obviously. Then simply say _'Up,' _or _'Down'_ according to the direction you wish to move. It will do as you instruct."

Harry's face brightened immensely, as he gave the stunned Potions Master a quick hug before settling himself into the chair. "Brilliant piece of magic, Severus. Thank you. This means a lot to me."

Severus stood, his pale cheeks slightly tinged in an attractive pink as Harry tried out his new toy. Somewhere, deep inside, his frozen little heart gave a great leap, and he realized that his might not be able to walk away after all.

That thought whispered around in his mind for days to come. His walls were tumbling before his very eyes, and he knew there would come a time he would have to make a choice, whether or not to stay with the first person to make him genuinely happy in so long a time. It frightened him, he could not deny it. And yet, the possibility that Harry might not make it through his daughter's birth terrified him even more.

That morning, after making sure Harry was comfortably situated in his library, an anxious Tibby hovering around, and with strict instruction to come get him should anything happen, Severus Apparated away to Hogsmeade. The brisk walk to Hogwarts proved to be refreshing for the harsh man and he arrived at the Headmistresses office just before lunch.

Minerva, despite being somewhat shocked by her ex-colleague's unscheduled appearance, graciously welcomed him once again into her domain. Dumbledore sat up and took notice as soon as the heavy door had shut behind the two. After asking a house elf for tea and a light lunch, Minerva leveled a searching look at Severus. "I would say you look well, Severus, but I'm afraid that isn't the case. What brings you here?" she asked bluntly.

Severus sat back in his seat, stirring his tea slowly. "Harry is experiencing some complications with his pregnancy."

Minerva's eyes narrowed in concern. "Is it serious, Severus?"

He gave a uncharacteristic shrug and took a long drink. "The entirety of the confounded situation is serious. He isn't eating or sleeping properly, and collapsed last night. The Healer who tends to him told me his magical core is taxed and his levels low. In fact, he suggested the possibility of an early birth, just to keep Harry and his daughter safe."

Minerva's face pinched in an alarmed expression. "Is there anything that can be done?"

A tired sigh passed through Severus' lips. "For now, Healer Robert has Harry on a regiment of nutrient potions and restricted movement. However, there are no guarantees. I came back to re-examine the notes you took, Albus. On St. McClowd. Maybe there is something I missed, something that will indicate what we might do to head off his complete depletion."

Albus nodded from his painting. "I wish I could recall more, my boy. But alas, this memory is slightly limited. How is Harry holding up?"

"He appears to be in better spirits today then he has in a while." Severus frowned, then looked back to Minerva. "You were his Head of House," he stated. She nodded, a small jerk of her head. "Is there a reason why he might be afraid to enlighten his friends as to his pregnancy?"

Thoughtfully, Minerva refilled her cup. "I take it you have asked our Mr. Potter?" she inquired.

"In a manner of speaking," Severus answered cryptically.

The witch's mouth drew into a straight line and she gazed at her companion with suspicion. "While I certainly can't answer for Harry, I would say it's possible he is worried about their reactions. Harry holds his friends opinions in the highest regard. As this situation is not only unique, but also the product of a failed relationship, he may be more than a little hesitant to divulge the matter. Have they inquired about him?"

"Yesterday. Both Ronald Weasley and his wife fire called while we were at Harry's cottage. Harry escaped their questions as he was asleep. I however, did not." Minerva opened her mouth and Severus shot her a withering look. "No, I did not give them the information. It's up to Harry to do so. It did become a source of disagreement between us last night, however. He did not explain his reasons for his continued secrecy, and while I would like to pry the answer out of him, I think it would do me no good to do so."

Albus nodded wisely. "Harry is a stubborn young man. If he hasn't told them, he must have a logical reason for it."

Severus snorted. "I am quite sure that reason and logic are both in short supply in Harry's repertoire, lately." He stood stiffly, his earlier awkward sleeping position still wrecking havoc on his body. "I'll take a look at those notes now, Minerva. It isn't wise for me to be sufficiently delayed from home."

"Harry's alone, I take it?" she asked.

Severus smirked. "As alone as he can be with that hovering house elf of his."

Unfortunately, Severus' search yielded less than likely result on Harry's advanced ailments heading into his final months of pregnancy. What information he did glean was disheartening. St. McClowd had indeed suffered from magical depletion, which in turn had taxed his body to the point of extreme exhaustion. The Healer who delivered St McClowd's son stated that this was likely the cause of his inability to overcome the bleeding from the birth, ultimately leading to his death.

Severus buried his face in his hands dejectedly. "It's no good," he whispered.

Albus cleared his throat softly. "Harry has overcome the odds before, Severus. Even death- twice. Don't have such little faith in the boy."

His eyes rimmed in red, Severus looked up at his old friend. "You and I both know that the Fates are not so kind. To be spared a third time? And I know, if it comes down to it, Harry will want his daughter to be saved instead of himself."

Albus smiled kindly. "As any parent should. And yet, Harry would try to push on in order to live for her, as well. Remember that, Severus. Remember what he has to live for, instead of why he may die." He watched as the younger man's back stiffened and he nodded his black head slowly. "Now, go home to him, my boy. He needs you just like you need him."

Severus' eyes widened at the sentiment Albus' words held. He saw the twinkle in the painted blue eyes; not even death could diminish such a sparkle. "Meddlesome fool," he snarled affectionately, but did not deny his old friend's words. It was becoming increasingly clear that Albus just might be right.

Thanking the two Professors, he left Hogwarts, apprehensive as to what he would tell Harry. He needn't have worried, though. Harry was fast asleep when he arrive back at the cottage, and slept far into the evening again. This time, however, Severus made no comment as to the lateness of the dinner hour, instead, appreciating the quiet time they share during and after the meal.

By the time they headed off to their beds, Harry had quite forgotten Severus' earlier task, and Severus was all too thankful to remain silent and keep the younger man in ignorance just a bit longer.

The time was approaching, he knew, when it would be impossible for him to do so. What he would do then…well, he preferred not to think about that.

* * *

A/N2: As I am so very tired, and it is rather late, I will keep this short. Still so amazed at the reviews/faves/alerts on this. *faints repeatedly.* I haven't replied to you all just yet, but will do so soon. Some have asked questions about the length of this story, and I anticipate it to be about 15 to 20 chapters tops. As for questions about Draco coming back into the picture, it will be a while before he is aware of his daughter, and I hope to introduce that line in what I think is a unique way. Also, any worries as to Harry surviving the birth, rest assure, this is one of my few non-character death ficts.

yah.. I know there is something else I should probably say, but it's almost 1AM. I do hope you enjoy, and thank you once again from the bottom of my little tired mommy heart.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer- Still not mine.

A/N1: I must apologize in advance. This chapter is massively long- almost 10k words long. I simply couldn't find the right place to break it. I hope, however, that the ending will put you dear readers in a forgiving mood. Still angsty- Severus is a bit of a git in this one, and Ron is undoubtedly one. Also, I rarely do this, but this chapter is dedicated to **hpbrat2 **for helping me with the name *grins*

* * *

**Foolish Games Pt 6**

As Harry headed into the middle of his fifth month, he was suddenly struck by the oddest of urges. Looking around Severus' house one bright afternoon, he spotted a small patch of dust on a bookshelf in the lower half of the library. Smudging his finger across it, he was disgusted with the substance. Gazing about, he saw more, not only on the shelves, but on the hardwood floor as well.

This utterly annoyed him.

Calling for Tibby, he requested a cleaning rag and some polish. He then proceeded to spend the rest of the afternoon happily scourging the library, at least all the places he could reach without a ladder of some sort. Even when his fingers cramped and were slightly raw from his activities, he continued on.

By the time Severus arrived home from his Potions shop, the library shelves were spic and span, and the floor was gleaming. Severus stood dumbfounded in the doorway, observing a humming, and rather largely pregnant Harry Potter, puttering around the room, pushing misplaced books back into their 'correct' order.

His eyes widened as he realized, in horror, that the precious tomes were now alphabetized and categorized. "What do you think you are doing?" he cried out, shock, concern and anger all warring in his tone. Harry spun around, an almost maniacal smile on his face.

"The library needed cleaning," he stated, as if it was oh so obvious. "So I cleaned it. What do you think?"

Severus, seeing red, stalked into the room, took the book from Harry's hands and setting it down with a slam on the near-by table. "This…" he hissed," This is my house, Potter. _My_ library. Did you, in that tiny mind of yours, think about that before you decided to desecrate my house?"

Harry stepped back, his eyes beginning to fill with tears. "I…I just wanted to…" he gulped in air.

Severus, still in a fit, ignored the poor distraught man's stuttering and flew about the room, inspecting the damage. "This will take me hours to undo," he ranted. Harry shrunk farther into himself. He watched as the irate Potions Master picked up several books, thumping them down on the cushion of a chair. "All out of order. Smith's _Greatest Potions- A History_ has no business being place next to Sir Novell's _Mastery of Draughts._" Then he rounded to face his charge. He pointed a long finger at Harry. "And you! You were expected to rest. Have you no thought for your child's welfare? Are you really that selfish?" he barked out.

Harry could take no more. As quick as his legs would carry him, he shot out of the room, stumbling as he headed towards his chair and the safety of his room. Once inside, he collapsed on his bed, hot tears of confusion spilling from his eyes. He had actually felt a sense of accomplishment while performing his task, only to realize he had made a major mess of things.

That night, he stayed locked in his room, refusing food, as his stomach was far too upset to attempt eating. His tears whetted the pillows beneath his head long after he had heard the still grumbling Severus pass by his door. The man had paused briefly outside and Harry held his breath, unsure how he should react if the surly man decided to demand entrance.

After a few tense moments, Severus moved on, and Harry buried himself deeper into his covers. His confusion only grew when he came to the realization that he had wanted acknowledgment from his housemate. He wanted Severus to be happy with him. He craved his acceptance and attention. It tore at his heart and puzzled him to no end. Had they been in a relationship, where Severus was his partner, he could understand this need; the attraction he found himself having for the stern man's notice. As they were not, and he couldn't see them being in such, the whole situation confounded him. Saddened, he mulled over his thoughts far into the night.

* * *

Severus, on the other hand, found his anger burning out very rapidly after Harry's panicked departure. He stopped his ranting, throwing a few books across the room in his self-directed rage. They hit the wall with simultaneous bangs. Severus slid to the floor, his back against the wall and closed his burning eyes. Again. _Again_ he had lost control. And this time, it was for an even stupider excuse. So the restless boy had scrubbed the entirety of the downstairs portion of the library. So he had reorganized Severus' books.

So What?

It wasn't something so drastic that a few flicks of the wand would have everything back where he had it. So _why?_ He sat there for hours, his thoughts deep and his face drawn in contemplation. What was it about Harry that drove him to fly off the handle?

_Fear._

The answer hit him, crackling inside his mind like lightning. He was afraid. Afraid to feel too deeply. Afraid that he would open up to Harry, only to lose him in the end. Afraid that he was helpless to do anything to keep the potential death sentence away from the man he had come to care so very deeply for.

His hands covered his face and he groaned. The sound was pain filled, hopeless. Albus had hit the nail on the head. He needed Harry in his life. The man brought brightness and understanding like he had never experienced with another person before. If Harry had been for Draco what he was now, for Severus, then the silver Prince as indeed a fool.

Now the question remained, would he be the fool as well?

The answer was not readily forthcoming, he found. Long into the night, he pondered his thoughts. Tibby brought him his dinner, informing him, reproachfully, that Master Harry had not come down. He worried over this, sending the elf up with a plate of food, and asked that she report back to him.

She did so, although he could tell, she was very upset with his actions. "Master Harry is being not hungry, he says. Master Harry is being sad. Says he is tired and will sleep."

Severus' head jerked in a weird little nod. "Thank you Tibby. Please, keep a close watch on him, tonight. And inform me of anything important."

The little elf nodded, then popped away.

After finishing his meal and banishing the dishes to the kitchen, he climbed to his feet, his bones protesting his lack of movement. Ignoring the slight pain, he bent and picked up the books he had earlier thrown. Tracing the words on the covers, he gingerly place them back on the table. Leaving the library the way it was, he sought out the notes he had brought back with him from his lab.

He had been working on a special project for the past few days, which, if all went well, would result in a sleeping draught Harry could take without compromising the safety of his baby, and himself. He would begin brewing in the morning, as soon as he could get to his shop. He found, once again, that he delighted in doing little things like this for Harry.

_Must be love- _that queer little voice in his head said snarkily. He pushed it aside as he paused outside of Harry's door. He listened a moment, trying to determine whether or not to disturbed him. Not hearing any noise from within, he decided he would wait until the morning. He had a feeling he would be eating humble pie for breakfast.

He did not get the chance, however, for the next morning, Harry did not appear while Severus was still about the house. If this was intentional on Harry's part, or not, he didn't know. Unable to wait any longer, and quite eager to begin work on Harry's potion, Severus left the house, giving Tibby strict instructions once again. He also made sure the younger man was left with a sweet citrus smelling polish, and a request to clean the piano. He hoped Harry would understand and forgive him.

The darkness of his lab suited his mood. It was well into the afternoon before he ventured out of it. The noise of the bustling shop was a shock to his senses and he took a moment to gain his bearings. His customary scowl firmly placed on his face, he nodded tersely to a few of the regulars and then turned to Jocelyn, his assistant for the day.

"Any owls from Harry?" he asked quietly.

Jocelyn through the newest stack of missives and shook her blonde spring curls. "None, sir. Although, there was a woman asking for you. She said she was an old student of yours."

Severus frowned. "Did you obtain a name, by any chance?"

"Hermione Weasley. Isn't she Ronald Weasley's wife?" Jocelyn asked, curiosity sparkling in her blue eyes.

His frown turned into a glare. "That she is. And you didn't think to tell me until just now?"

The girl's throat worked rapidly. Her cheeks colored and she ducked her head. "Begging your pardon, sir. You had said it was important that you not be disturbed unless it was an emergency. Mrs. Weasley only wanted to speak with you. She said she would return around closing."

Severus turned away, his robes bellowing out behind him. "Fine. Be sure to inform me when she arrives." Irritated, he stormed back into his lab, losing himself back in amidst his ingredients.

A few hours later, a tentative knock sounded. Jerking open the door, he glared down at his assistant.

The girl gulped. "She's here, sir," she said, before disappearing back into the shop front. Severus followed silently.

Hermione stood patiently off to the side of the counter. Gazing around the shop, her eyes finally fell on Severus' imposing form. She stepped forward with a polite smile. She did not hold out her hand, knowing instinctively it would not be welcomed. "Hello, Professor."

Severus' head nodded once in greeting. "Mrs. Weasley. What brings you here?"

"Harry," she replied. "We still haven't heard from him."

His eyebrow shot up. "And, why pray tell, would you come to me? I am not his keeper, after all."

Hermione looked him over slowly, her smile turning into a knowing grin. "Aren't you though?" she asked.

Taken aback, Severus' face paled. "What are you implying, Weasley?" he ground out through his tightly clenched teeth.

Hermione held up her hands in a show of good faith. "I wasn't implying anything, Professor. Merely making an observation. Your explanation, when we spoke last, didn't ring true."

Severus' expression darkened. "It is the only one you will get. So I suggest you abandon the issue."

Her smile still stretching across her face, the brown of her eyes glinted with speculation. "I want to know what's going on with him, sir. You seem to know." She paused, suddenly looking defeated. The change was uncomfortable to see. "I'm worried about him, sir. He hasn't kept us away like this in years. I know he's hiding something. Something big. Please, if you know, tell me." Her voice cracked with untold concern.

Severus suddenly had a decision to make. He could inform Harry's friends, forcing Harry to acknowledge them, and whatever it was holding him back. By doing so, it would pave the way for him to bow out gracefully, confident that Harry would be in good hands. After all, the Golden Trio were famous for their friendship and care shown.

Did he want that? Did he truly want to leave, knowing he could be walking away from a small chance at happiness?

He thought a moment. Then, he grabbed a sheet of parchment from the counter, quickly scribbling down his address. "My house. Come around seven tomorrow evening. Harry should be up from his nap by then."

Hermione took it gingerly, not venturing the question he knew she was just dying to ask. "Thank you, Professor," she said sincerely.

Severus shook his inky head. "I'm not doing this for you. Potter needs his friends. And if he refuses to tell you, he will show you instead."

With a frown, Hermione shook her head. "If I didn't know you to be such a prat, I'd say you actually care about Harry, Professor."

Severus glowered. "You may not be my student any longer, Mrs. Weasley, but this is still my shop. I won't hesitate to hex you out of here if you insist on spouting such nonsense. Now, if there isn't anything else, I have a potion to finish. Remember seven, tomorrow," he said grimly, returning to the bowels of his shop.

* * *

Ignoring the nagging feeling in his heart and the accompanying voice in his head, Severus tiredly trudged into the house a little after nine that night. The potion for Harry's sleep still needed to sit over night. He sincerely hoped it would be effective.

Wondering whether or not Harry had forgiven him, he fumbled with his light coat, hanging it on the rack in the hall. Soft tendrils of music floated about the house, the notes of Brahms' _Lullaby_ curled through the air. He had never heard it played so softly, the tune dipping and swelling with love and contentment. Apparently, Harry was in a better mood. With a minute smile of relief, he climbed the stairs.

Once again, he found Harry at the piano, his distended belly more than a little obvious, and hampering him a little. His fingers still moved like water over the keys, a serene smile on his face. The instrument gleamed with a gorgeous sheen and Severus knew Harry had forgiven him.

"She likes it when I play this," Harry said softly, not looking away from his music. Severus moved farther into the room, his steps measured and silent.

"It is a soothing tune," he agreed. He watched with amazement as Harry turned his glowing green eyes to Severus, sheer unadulterated peace and joy shining within.

"Thank you," he said simply, the final notes dieing away. He sat there for a few more moments. "and I accept."

Severus, understanding what he meant, nodded. "Come, I believe Tibby has prepared dinner for us," he invited.

Harry rose slowly, bracing his hands on the lid for balance. "I feel like a balloon. A very big, lopsided balloon," he complained. Moving carefully, he stopped right before Severus. "I put the library back to order," he informed the surprised Potions Master. "I should have asked. Robert says I'm nesting."

Severus pulled a face. "Nesting? You're becoming a bird?" he asked comically.

Harry cracked a smile. "No. It's the Muggle term, I guess. Women go through it, in preparation for the arrival of the baby."

Severus cocked an eye brow. "I suppose that makes sense. Birds and other creatures do something similar."

"Indeed," came Harry's response. His eyes lit with mischief as he said the word, knowing it was Severus' usual. Severus found himself hard pressed to not smile back. Instead he gestured to the open door.

"Shall we?" he asked. Harry nodded once, then led the way out of the room. Severus followed at a close gait, carefully watching the toddling man. He sighed slightly when Harry reached his chair and began the descent down the stairs.

"I know I have thanked you before, Severus," Harry commented as he alighted from the chair. "But I really do appreciate what you've done for me. And I'm sorry for yesterday."

Severus waved the apology away. Harry wasn't at fault, by any means. For once, the blame lay entirely at Severus' feet. And yet… he looked away. It never got any easier-this apologizing and _caring_. He swiped a hand through his hair tiredly. After tomorrow, it would no longer be his problem. He wondered if he should say something to the now humming Gryffindor, then decided against it. He didn't want to allow Harry time to think of an excuse, or in the extreme case - escape. Not that he would, in all likelihood. His loyalties were too ingrained for that.

Although… one never knew with Harry. Especially lately.

"…nursery. There's catalogues for a few Muggle stores. They even deliver. It might be better if I order from there instead of anything here in the wizarding world," Harry said, pausing to take a bite of his baked chicken.

Severus tuned in once again, surprised that he had been so deep in his own thoughts that he hadn't realized they were seated at the table. Harry had apparently been conversing with him in the meantime. Catching the last few statements, he "hmm" in response.

"That might be the course of wisdom, Harry," was all he said, cutting his chicken and taking a bite. He felt a pang of regret, as Harry picked up the conversation once again. He had no business interjecting anything into it really. He would be forfeiting all rights after Harry's friends took over. And he had no doubt, with Granger…er… Weasley involved, that the situation would indeed be taken over. There would be no need for a surly old man like himself.

His appetite lost, he pushed away his plate, picking up his wine glass instead. He studied the burgundy liquid as it sloshed about in the glass.

"Do you mind if I have some of the clothes delivered here?" Harry asked, shaking him back to reality. He looked up, his eyes hard with determination. The look of relaxed delight in Harry's eyes almost made him falter.

"I do not think that would be feasible, Harry. The necessities for your daughter should be at your residence. They have no place here," he responded harshly.

Harry's expression turned to one of confusion. "I'm not asking for a whole room for the stuff, Severus," he replied calmly. "I would keep it all in my room. I just want to be able to organize it all."

Severus stood, and shook his head. "Would that not be counterproductive? You would then have to move the whole operation back over to your cottage. What would be the point?" He watched as Harry's shoulders drooped in defeat, his face turning red. He twisted his hands in his lap and nodded.

"I guess you're right. Silly me for not thinking it through." He likewise stood, giving a stiff nod of his head to his host. "I'm going to bed. Night, Severus," he muttered. He stumbled slightly on his way out, but caught himself before Severus could react. Sheepishly, he tossed a look over his shoulder. "I should start wearing padded clothes."

Severus said nothing, stuffing the almost offered hand into his pocket. He inclined his head once, then stood in silence as the younger man shuffled away slowly. He heard him call out _"Up,"_ and then the loud click of his door being shut. Slumping back into his chair, he felt the overwhelming urge to go to Harry and explain everything.

The problem was, he didn't know what everything was, much less how to explain it. His behavior was callous and erratic to say the least. His harsh and unforgiving words confusing at best. Since the visit from Hermione, and his decision to back out of Harry's life, he had this heavy burn permeate his body, starting from his heart.

He had convinced himself that he was doing the unselfish thing, turning Harry's care over to those who knew and loved him.

"_But so do you, maybe more so than they do,"_ his nagging inner voice threw out.

"Enough, no more," he whispered dangerously. Surprisingly, it did as it was told. And he was lonelier than ever.

A rift had begun, or perhaps it had always been there. Severus wasn't sure which. Either way, he had begun down this path, and he meant to see it through.

_For Harry._

_

* * *

_

Harry curled onto his side, not an easy task considering his large stomach. His daughter was restless tonight, making full use of her elbows and knees. He winced as she delivered a particularly fierce blow to his spine. "Oi! That's my back, little one," he cried out. His fingers played with the covers on his bed as he thought over dinner.

Severus' actions and attitude had been like a roller-coaster, blowing hot then cold. It was almost as if the Potion Master was trying to push him away for some reason. He thought that after the whole library fiasco, and then their actions to rectify the situation, they had perhaps formed a truce of some sort. But as Severus harsh words demonstrated, Harry was obviously missing something here.

"He doesn't want me around anymore," he said tearfully. "I'm big and in the way and messing up everything. I cry at the drop of a wand, and interrupt his routine. He has obviously had enough." He buried his face in his pillow, muffling the beginnings of his sobs.

Everything was all wrong.

All wrong.

And he had no idea why.

* * *

Breakfast was a somber affair. Severus was surprised to see Harry in the kitchen before he himself arrived. As of late, Harry had taken to sleeping late again. By the near black circles under his eyes, Severus surmised Harry hadn't gotten much -if any- sleep the night before. He had to wonder how much of that wasn't due to his actions the night before.

The thought only heightened his determination to let Harry go. He would only cause more harm than good if he continued down that path.

Harry refused to even look at him, he noticed. His eyes were glued to his tea cup, the steam curling up into weird little patterns. Every once in a while, he would pick the cup up, place it to his lips, and then set it down, untasted. The air in the room was stifling, and Severus had begun to feel claustrophobic. He grabbed a piece of toast and fled. If the start of this day was any indication, it would be one hell of a trip.

He had set his hand to the plough, however. And he could only go forward.

* * *

When the floo flared to life, Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He had spent the night thinking, and had come to a decision. He realized that he valued Severus as a friend, perhaps even more. Because of that, he wanted to see the stoic man happy. That obviously had not been the case lately, a situation he felt was due largely to his continued presence. Despite their earlier efforts, Harry was sure the anger Severus held for him had only continued.

Harry had outstayed his welcome. And this morning had only confirmed it. With a heavy heart, he decided to spend his last day in Severus' home at the piano. After today, he would no longer have access to such an instrument, at least until he purchased one for his cottage. Slowly, he made his way into the music room, coming to a stop before the piano. Lovingly, he ran gentle fingers over the lid, memorizing the contours of the wood, the texture and gleam of the polished keys. And with each note played that day, he remembered his time with Severus. There were times he thought they had made some inroads into friendship, a deeper understanding of their own battles, and shared triumphs. He had been mistaken, or so it seemed.

A tear drop rolled down his cheek, splashing silently onto the keys. With it, his music turned heartbreakingly dark, his frustration, and longing pouring from his fingers. Long into the afternoon, he allowed his emotions to flow. Exhausted finally, he conjured a settee and curled upon it. As sleep overtook him, he saw Tibby shake her odd-shaped head in sadness. Somehow, she knew, Harry concluded. And she disapproved.

* * *

Severus was a wreck by the time he came home at a quarter after six that evening. Silence once again greeted him. He knew he would have to get used to it, after this evening. Tibby popped in before him, her ears moving back and forth, and a sour look on her face.

"Master Harry is being sad," she informed him, allowing no room for doubt that she held him responsible for her Master's mood.

"Where is he?" he asked.

"He is being in the music room again. He is not leaving room all day, just plays and plays."

Severus cocked his head, listening. "He's not playing now, is he?"

Tibby shook her head, her ears flopping about. "No, he is sleeping now."

Nodding, Severus turned towards the lower half of the library. "Leave him, then. Bring tea into the library. I am expecting… guests," he spat out the last word with disgust.

Tibby wrung her hands, but walked away without another word. Severus shook his head. Weird little creature. He moved into the room, making sure the floo was open. Unable to contain his anxiety, he began pacing the length of the room, wearing new paths in the carpet.

Much to her credit, Hermione was early, dragging a complaining Ron behind her. The floo allowed them through, spewing them out onto the library floor. Ron stumbled slightly, mumbling curses under his breath.

Severus snorted. "You never were known for your grace, were you Weasley?"

Ron returned the glare, brushing his clothes free of soot. "Yes, well…" he stuttered.

Severus shook his head. "Eloquent too." He nodded to Hermione. "Mrs. Weasley, I'm glad to see you at least know the meaning of punctuality."

Hermione recognized his snide statement for the backwards compliment it was. "Thank you for inviting us, Professor."

"I had little choice, didn't I?" he responded with a sneer.

Smiling in a way that reminded him of Luna "Looney" Lovegood, she bobbed her head slightly. "Just the same." She looked around the room, taking in everything with wide eyes. "Your library is incredible, Professor. You have books here that aren't even available by owl-order." She trailed along the shelves, perusing the titles. "A first edition of _Merlin's Magic!_" she gushed. "Do you know how hard it is to find this?"

"I should hope so," Severus said.

Hermione ignored him, her eyes wide with curiosity. "And _Stained Strands_. I read about this book back in school. It has some of the most controversial theories on the detection of magical core strands."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Oh Merlin, she'll be here all night, chattering on about your books," he whined, chancing a glance at Severus. The man stood imposingly straight, with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His look turned into a glower.

"Desist this at once, Mrs. Weasley. I did not ask you to come here for you to enlighten me about my own library. You were concerned about Mr. Potter, were you not?" he asked sharply.

The two had the grace to look embarrassed. "Of course, Professor," Hermione said quietly. "Where is Harry?"

"I'm here," Harry answered, his tone deep with suspicion. "The question is why are you?" He held himself stiffly, keeping to the shadows.

Twin cries of "Mate," and "Harry," came from his friends. Hermione moved to rush forward, then paused, seeing the warning in his green eyes.

"Harry?" she questioned. "We have been so worried about you. You never call, or come over any more," she reprimanded him.

Severus found himself scowling at her patronizing tone. He could feel the rising push of Harry's magic and for once questioned the wisdom of his decision. He caught Harry's eye and saw the anger and hurt in their depths.

"I've been busy, 'Mione," Harry replied, tension filling his body.

"Ah, Mate, that's no excuse." Ron, oblivious to the atmosphere in the room, bounded forward, slapping the younger man on his back. Harry coughed slightly, stumbling forwards. The glow from the floo and the lamps fell upon his form, bathing him in light.

A gasp came from Hermione, and then silence descended immediately upon the friends. Harry pulled back, wrapping his arms protectively around his tummy.

"Harry, are you…" she trailed off, her eyes widen beyond belief. Ron stood off to the side, his mouth gaping like a fish.

"Pregnant? Yes, Hermione. I am," he said lowly. He watched as Ron paled, his eyes bouncing back and forth between Harry protruding belly and Severus' suddenly tense form.

"You! You greasy old bastard" he shouted, pointing an accusing finger at the silent Potion Master. "How could you do this to him?"

"Imbecile. Your powers of deduction are astoundingly lacking, just like your mind," Severus' sneered, watching Ron's face grow redder. It now rivaled his hair.

"Well if you're not, then who?" Hermione asked.

"Draco," Harry told them quietly. Severus could hear the defeat in his voice.

Ron's glare turned from Severus to Harry, his eyes narrowing. "Draco," he repeated, just as quietly. "I told you, Harry. I told you Malfoy was bad news. That he would do something to hurt you. But you didn't listen. Oh no. You were _in love_ with the pounce. So sure he had changed. Now look at the mess you're in."

"Ron!" Hermione called out warningly. Ron shot her a look, then refocused on Harry.

"I didn't asked for this to happen," Harry countered.

"You never do, Harry. But stuff still does. You end up in these impossible situations, always dragging us into them. Somebody always gets hurt. Or worse. Look at our school years. Look at all the scrapes me and 'Mione were in because something happened to you. We almost died, _my _brother did die because of your mess," he spat out.

"Ron!" Hermione gasped in surprise. She looked over to Harry, his face darkened, his body beginning to tremble.

The air in the room dropped exponentially. Severus braced himself for the explosion of magic he was sure would come.

"I've apologized so many times for that, Ron. I thought we were past that. I lost people too, remember?" Harry whispered.

Ron ignored his comment, diving back into his rant. "And now… now. You've dragged Snape into your mess. He's the one to bail you out this time, then? Right choice that."

"And what was I supposed to do, Ron? What would you have me do, huh? Come to you, so you could throw my mistake back in my face?" Harry shouted. "I'm sorry okay? I'm sorry I didn't listen. You were right, that's what you want to hear, isn't it?"

"Damn right, I was. How could you breed with that snake?" Ron growled.

"We were together, damn it. What did you think we did? Sit around and curl each others hair?" Harry shot back.

"I don't know!" Ron yelled stupidly. "I tried not to think about the fact my best mate was a bloody pouncy boy for the Slytherlin Prince. Now you're having his spawn."

**CRACK!**

The sound of shattering glass shot through the room. The shards spewed all over the ground, making the rug suddenly hazardous for the occupants. Harry's eyes shined with tears of rage, his fists clenched tight enough to draw blood.

"Get out," he hissed. "Don't you dare call my daughter such a thing. No matter her parentage, she is still mine."

Severus decided enough was enough. He stepped forward in between the fuming Ron and the shaking Harry. He felt the push of Harry's magic chill his back and he fought off a shiver. "That is quite enough," he said, his voice tinged with dangerous anger. "I allowed you the courtesy of coming in order for Harry to receive the support he needed from you. You are his _friends_; I thought that meant something to Gryffindors. I can now see I was very much mistaken." He deepened his death glare, causing Ron to blanch a bit. "Leave," he commanded.

Ron tossed his head in a haughty gesture that would do a pure-blood proud. "We're leaving, alright." He threw Harry another glare. "Maybe next time you'll listen to us, Harry. Come on Hermione." He was through the floo in a rush of hissing flames.

Hermione still stood, shocked at the confrontation. Her cheeks were infused with color as she gingerly stepped towards the panting Harry. Severus blocked her pathway, his face grim with protectiveness. "Harry," she began quietly. "You know how he is, Harry. He didn't mean it."

Harry looked away, biting harshly on his lip. His heart thudded tremendously, the blood rushing through his ears. He could feel the baby twist and turn in his belly, upset by his wild magic and the stress.

Severus was the one to answer. "His behavior is appalling, Weasley. I expected more from you both."

Hermione's eyes flashed momentarily. "Do not presume I share his views, Professor," she paused, softening her voice. "Harry, why didn't you say something, at least to me?"

Harry shook his head. "I didn't want you to know that my relationship with Draco had failed. After all the work I put into fighting for him…" he trailed off.

Hermione sighed. "Oh Harry." She shook her head sadly. "We've known about your break up for months now."

His head shooting up quickly, Harry's eyes widened. "What? How?"

It was Hermione's turn to look away. "It's been all over _The Prophet._ Ever since he was seen stepping out with Astoria Greengrass back in early January, the rumor mill has been flying."

Tears swam in Harry's eyes. "So even before we broke up?" His friend nodded. "Oh, I see."

Hermione finally ducked around Severus, not hesitating to pull Harry into a hug. "No matter what Ron says right now, you know he still loves you. We both do. Hang in there, okay. I'll talk some sense into him." She pulled back, catching Harry's gaze. "You're alright, though?"

He sniffled a bit and shrugged. "As well as can be expected, I suppose. We're in the home stretch now, just about a month and half left." He returned her hug. "I'll be okay. I promise."

Hermione smiled, releasing him slowly. She turned to Severus. "Take care of him, would you?" she requested. The Potion Master said nothing, his eyes still narrowed with irritation. She understood it was time to go. She hugged Harry one last time before walking to the floo. "I'll call you, Harry. We'll get together sometime soon." With a final wave, she ducked into the flames. The fireplace glared green for a moment, then died down, sending a crushing silence around the remaining occupants.

Severus, for once in his life, had no idea what to say. He realized he had made yet another monumental mistake when it came to Harry. Only this time, he didn't see anyway of fixing it.

Harry turned his back on Severus, carefully picking his way across the dangerous rug. With a wave of his hand, the glasses were repaired and back in their places. He stopped in the doorway. "Now, you understand why I asked you to leave it alone. For once in your goddamn life, couldn't you have listened to me?" he whispered, the words condemningly loud in the room. Without waiting for an answer, he slipped away, intent on locking himself in his room. The baby was still moving at an erratic rate, and he knew he needed to calm himself quickly in order to restore peace to his daughter's inner world.

Severus watched him go, both his mind and heart begging him to follow, to set things right. He ignored them. There was no setting things right, no band-aide to help fix the hurt he had helped to cause. He was more than a little shocked by Weasley's lashing out. He thought nothing could rattle the Golden Trio.

Obviously that had been a gross miscalculation on his part. Albus' previous words came back to him, and he saw now that the old man had been quite correct in his assessment of the situation.

Furious with himself, he left the library and enclosed himself tightly in his quarters. Even when Tibby came bearing his meal, he resolutely ignored her quiet words of reproach, sending his food back to the kitchen without a second glance. Unsure what to do with himself, as his mind refused to let him have any sort of peace, he tossed his notes away, flung himself on his bed, and took a sleeping potion.

Perhaps, he mused, in dreams he would finally understand the answers he sought.

* * *

Harry, however, was not so lucky. The argument with Ron had brought to the fore certain insecurities he desperately tried to forget. He had spoke of those dead, those close to him lost. He had confided in Severus of the guilt he felt because of that. During the day, he could ignore them, shove it all aside in favor of the good and light. But in the night, in his dreams, the souls of those killed by his folly spoke to him.

They spoke of the darkness, and the fault that lay at his feet. Draco had once been his light during those times, pulling back the curtain and banishing the shadows. When Harry had left him, he had left the light behind as well.

Until he found out about his daughter…

And Severus.

Even tonight, with the distrust still strongly palatable between them, the man had stepped up in his defense. For a brief moment, Ron's words meant nothing.

Until he remembered the way the dark man had looked at him the night before. And Ron's words began to ring true. He had relied on Severus far too much, to help him through all this. He never stood on his own two feet, and people continued to be hurt or in this case, inconvenienced because of his messes.

Now as he laid half curled on his bed, he saw nothing but shadows; the voices of the dead ringing in his ears. Hands pressed white knuckled over his ears, he cried out in anguish that only the truly lonely know. With no light to call him back, he sank deeper into his despair.

Tibby was called to his room during the early morning hours. She popped into the room, wringing her hands and blinking in the darkness.

"Master Harry. You is calling for Tibby?" she asked.

Harry lifted his head off the edge of his bed and blinked red rimmed eyes. "Yes, Tibby. I need you to pack up our stuff. We're going back to the cottage as soon as you're done," he said despondently.

Tibby began doing as she was told, her eyes flickering to the slumped pregnant form of her master. She finished in record time, everything folded and shrunk down.

"Should Tibby be packing Master Severus' things too?" she asked discreetly.

Harry flinched, then struggled to his feet. "No. Severus' home is here. It is time I give it back to him, mess free. I'll be back in a moment."

He made his way to Severus' bedroom door and stood there a moment, his hand posed to knock. It swung open just as he dropped it. Severus scowled slightly, then frowned. Concern rifled through his being as he took in the exhausted form of his house mate.

"Harry?" he questioned.

Harry raised expressionless eyes to his. His hand came up to rub at the back of his neck and he looked away. "See, the thing is I need to get the cottage ready for the baby and all. The nursery needs done, and I'm…" he fumbled with his explanation. It sounded silly, even in his own mind. "I'm leaving," he finished.

To say Severus was shocked would be an understatement. "Leaving?" he echoed.

Harry bit his lip and nodded. "Yes, in a few minutes in fact. I just wanted to say thank you for putting up with me all this time. And I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused."

Understanding was slowly returning to Severus' mind, and with it, a boiling rage. He stepped forward menacingly. "Have the Weasley's changed their minds then? Ronald has had an epiphany and came to his senses?" he barked.

Harry shook his head. "No."

"Then just where do you plan on going?" Severus asked, his voice horribly quiet.

"Home. To my cottage. It is my home after all," he said sarcastically.

"Who will be staying with you? Tibby?" Severus' mind reeled with the suddenness of it all. True, he had planned for Harry to leave, but with his friends, people who would watch over him, make sure the reckless Gryffindor didn't do anything to jeopardize his life.

Harry glared. "Of course Tibby is going with me. She's all I need, really. It wasn't like you were around a whole lot any way." He stepped back. "Anyway, I apologize for all the trouble you've had to go through on my account. Just bill my account for all the expenses I incurred, okay." His voice broke then and he turned quickly away.

Severus wanted to call out, to shout and rage at the foolish boy who was fleeing before his very eyes. But before he could, he felt the wards shift, telling him Harry was gone. Furious, he spun around, storming to his floo.

He had a call to make.

* * *

Harry knew he wouldn't escape Severus' clutches unscathed. So it was no real surprise when Healer Robert stepped through his floo not more than an hour later. However, Harry didn't have a Slytherlin side for nothing. He stood toe to toe with Robert and proclaimed he would stay here for the final weeks of his pregnancy. Nothing Robert threatened would budge the stubborn younger man.

Finally, Robert realized he couldn't persuade him otherwise, and so proposed a compromise. He, or someone from his team would check in on Harry daily, and his floo would be set up with an emergency charm, alerting Robert if anything was amiss. Harry on the other hand, was to stay off his feet and resting as much as possible. The same restrictions implemented weeks ago were still to be carried out. Harry had no choice but to agree.

Still smarting from Ron's accusations and Severus'… whatever… Harry threw himself into preparations for the baby. He poured over magazines and catalogues, sending off for furniture and decorations. The house moved itself, adding a nursery directly off the master bedroom. It was spacious and lined with windows over looking the back expanse. The roar of the ocean filled the room through the open windows, the sea spray smell was refreshing to Harry's taxed senses.

"I needed this, 'Mione," he said quietly, as he watched the pieces of the crib come together. Ah…magic was a wonderful thing.

Hermione sat back in the rocker, charming the wall paper onto the walls. She cast him a soft, reflective smile. Harry looked, well, exhausted, to be plain. His cheeks were hollowed and the rings under his eyes were horribly dark. Hi skin had taken on a pallor from spending too much time inside as of late. She, for one, couldn't wait for this entire ordeal to be over, for Harry's sake.

She had managed to take an extended lunch break, flooing over to the cottage just a little after noon on this early June day. Ron was still milking in his temper tantrum, insisting he had enough of Harry's drama to last a life time. Hermione, after several nights of trying to talk some sense into him, finally gave up, leaving her stubborn, narrow-minded husband to his childish behavior. It disgusted her sometimes, how he refused to move forwards.

Harry, having been a recluse for the last two weeks, ever since his departure from Severus' home, was only too glad to welcome his old friend into his home. He had seen no one, except his team of healers, and the delivery men with his baby's supplies. From Severus, he heard nothing, only receiving a small package of vials two days after he left. The little note accompanying it said it was an improved version of Dreamless Sleep, one that would not be addictive, and safe for him to use while pregnant. Harry had wept, holding the little box close to his chest. After that, he found himself sinking into depression.

So the fire call from Hermione three days ago was a great distraction. In his friend, he found a kindred spirit, willing to help him decorate and talk baby talk. He had missed this…their camaraderie.

"It's a gorgeous place, Harry. Seems to suit you well. And I know the baby will just love this room. It's so bright and airy, and this wallpaper is just adorable," she gushed, spelling the dry piece to move. The little ballet dancers pirouetted and flew across the banner, the tinkling tune of _Swan Lake_ played as they danced.

Harry's face glowed with joy. "Thanks, 'Mione," he said with a grin. He waved his hand and the cloths began sorting themselves into piles. Tibby bounced around the room, opening drawers as the folded clothes flew in.

"Have you thought of a name yet?" she asked.

Nodding, Harry sat down heavily on the ottoman. He rubbed his belly fondly. "I have, a while back, actually. But I'm keeping it to myself until her birth." His voice died for a moment, a lingering sadness deep in his eyes. "I had hoped Sev... um...Snape might be there."

Hermione said nothing. Despite her curiosity, it was a subject she wasn't sure Harry wanted to broach. She had obviously noticed the lack of the snarky Potions Master's presence, as well as Harry's continuous avoidance of the topic.

Harry shrugged. "Kinda silly of me, wasn't it? Ron was right, you know. I never should have involved him. And then, I got so used to him being around, I forgot he had no reason for me to be there."

Hermione paused in her task. "Harry, did you ever think he might have wanted you around, though?" she asked quietly.

Harry gave a brittle little laugh. "Why would he, Hermione? He reminded me time and again that this isn't his problem. He had no obligation." He shook his head. "No. He never wanted me around, and there is no way I would force my presence on him. It's better this way, really it is. And I'm fine. We're fine." He seemed to repeat it in a mantra, as if trying to convince himself that he was indeed better off without the ever intimidating Severus Snape.

Hermione, however, had seen the look in Severus' eyes at the shop, and again at the house, during Ron's tirade. There was protectiveness and a hint of longing in those onyx eyes. Somehow, she got the feeling there was something much deeper there, something that drove Severus to back away from the fragile Harry.

She shook her head sadly. She was surrounded by idiot males who had far more hormonal mood swings than most women she knew.

Three days later, she found out just how right she was.

* * *

The pains started just after dinner. They were light at first, mere uncomfortable twinges. Harry had felt incredibly restless all day. He had reorganized the drawers by hand, then spelled them all back the way they were. He had attempted as short walk around the front lawn, admiring the blooming flowers and sweet songs of the birds. But the pangs in his lower back, and the swelling in his ankles drove him back inside.

An owl from Robert said he would be delayed in his visit, citing an emergency as the cause. He would try to stop by in the evening. Tired and worn out, Harry laid down for a nap, only to be awoken an hour later by the incessant need to use the bathroom. Afterward, he awkwardly navigated his way to the dining room. Tibby fixed a light dinner, but Harry simply moved the food around the plate. Wringing her hands tearfully, she proclaimed she had failed to make her Master happy.

Harry had quite a time convincing her that he really didn't feel well, and that it had noting to do with her, or her food. Irritated and beginning to feel sharp knife-like pains radiate throughout his lower body, he retired to the couch in his living room. There, he curled up with a blanket, despite the warm weather, his form shivering uncontrollably.

After an hour or so of tossing and turning, with the pain becoming increasingly worse, he decided that something just might not be right. Checking the clock once again, he prayed to whatever gods there were that Robert would be around soon.

It was Hermione that stepped through the floo at half past eight and found a panting and groaning Harry flopped half on the floor and half on his couch. Her eyes widened in alarm as he reached out to her.

"'Mione, help," he moaned.

"I…I…What should I do?" she sputtered. She wasn't a medi-witch, nor had she had kids yet.

Harry waved his hand. "The blue vase on the floo, tip it to the left."

She frowned, but nodded, stepping up to the mantle and tipping the vase. Almost instantly, the floo turned red and Hermione stepped back quickly. Healer Robert stepped through, shouting back over his shoulder to someone on the other side. Turning around, he took in the situation, and immediately went back through.

A moment of panic seized Hermione and she opened her mouth to call him back, when it flared again and the Healer, as well as three other people came through. Robert walked calmly to Harry's side, kneeling down beside the tortured man. He touched his shoulder, drawing that green gaze to his. "Harry, how long have the pains been coming?" he asked, ignoring the frantic movements behind him. His eyes were focused completely on Harry.

"Don't know. Smm few hours ago, think…" he groaned, his hands clutching the couch cushion tightly. Robert nodded encouragingly.

"Harry, I think it's time. We could try to stop the contractions, but I don't think it would be wise." He ran his wand over Harry's body, his lips pursed at the results. "Your magic's too low for this to last much longer. We risk permanent damage if we don't do something now."

Hermione stepped forward. "Healer, what if you stop his contractions?"

Robert sent her a quick glance before going back to watch the continued results. "Mrs. Weasley, is it? Unfortunately, we just don't know enough about Harry's predicament to accurately make an assessment."

She nodded in understanding. Sitting down next to Harry, she took his hand, wincing as he squeezed her fingers in a bruising grip. He gritted his teeth against the onslaught of another contraction.

"What do you want to do, here?" Robert asked, aiming his question at Harry.

"Just…do…what… you need…to…do," he panted out.

Robert stood, brushing his hands on his pants. "Alright. Just sit tight. We'll get set up, and then move forward with the procedure."

"Procedure?" Hermione echoed.

"With all the information we have on other male pregnancies and deliveries, which admittedly is very sparse, we have found that the other wizard on record had his child delivered by C-section. Apparently, the female body part necessary for a natural birth do not form. Cesarean is the only way." His gaze softened. "Try not to worry. We will do all we can to make this go as smoothly as possible. Now, Mrs. Weasley, if you could follow me, I'd like a short word with you."

With an incline of her head, and another press of Harry's sweaty hand, she got to her feet and followed the Healer across the room. A questioning look filled her eyes as she looked up at the strangely calm man. "Yes?"

"I want you to go to Severus' Snape's shop and fetch him. If he isn't there, try his house. You have the address, correct?" he asked. She nodded. "Good. Tell him I require his assistance, and to bring the potions on this list." He handed her a small piece of parchment. She took it quietly.

"Harry would hex you alive if he knew, you know," she said knowingly.

Robert smiled grimly. "I know. But I really think he also needs Severus' here for this." He glanced back at the grimacing man, as a muffled cry sounded. "Please, hurry."

* * *

Convincing Severus was actually much easier than Hermione had anticipated. She found him at his home, burning the midnight oil. His appearance was a disconcerting as Harry's. Hermione now felt sure of her earlier assessment in regards to the Potion Master's feelings towards her friend.

He opened the door with a sneer on his lean face, his hair lanky and falling greasily around his face. His eyes, dark and brooding, rivaled Harry's in dark circles. He pinched his lips into an even tighter white line.

"Potter's not here, if you're looking for him," he growled, moving to shut the door in her face. She placed a foot in the way, a stern look on her face.

"I know. He's at home. I'm here by request of Healer Robert." She noticed the minute widening of Severus' eyes and guessed he understood. She held out the rolled up list. "He asked that you bring these potions."

He snatched it out of her hand, quickly reading it and then swooping back into his home. He gave her a look that said "why are you still here?" She simply smiled back. Shaking his head, he trudged away.

Moments later, he returned. "Come then. We'll use my floo," he remarked. Hermione nodded, following him through without a word.

The flurry of activity contained in the small living room of Harry's cottage reminded Severus of the nights after the final battle. The Healers and assistants moved swiftly and quietly around the room. Harry lay upon a transfigured bed, his face scrunched up in agony. He let out another low cry, his eyes squeezed shut.

Robert immediately came towards them as they stepped through. "Severus, thank you for coming." He held out his hand. Severus placed several vials into his palm, a strange look on his face.

"How is he?" he asked, hating the slight tremble in his voice. The past two weeks or so had been hell for him, not that he would ever admit it, even to himself. The house had been so empty without Harry around, the halls bereft of music in the evenings and Tibby's chatter in the mornings. Severus had spent more nights worried about the younger man than sleeping; hence his gaunt appearance.

During one of those lonely nights, he had acknowledge that he just might feel more for Harry than he had thought possible. The word love crossed his mind, and this time, he didn't immediately push it away. Instead, he left it there, lingering in his thoughts. He wasn't ready to completely admit to the feeling. After all, what did he know of love, anyway? He had never really experienced it, whether giving or receiving. His mother had tried to show him loving care, but she was a weak minded woman, easily cowed by his overly domineering father. His friendship with Lily he had once mistaken for love, but soon understood it for what it was. Disaster had followed shortly thereafter.

After that, he simply had given up, pushing any and all emotions remotely warm and fuzzy far away, and building a wall so high and thick he was sure nothing would get through.

Nothing had, until Harry. Now, as he watched the pale young man, and the miracle of life transpiring right before his very eyes, he had no choice but to admit that _this_ was what he had been searching for all along. A family, someone to love and protect. He had chalked such emotions up as Gryffindor, unbecoming of a Slytherlin. Now he realized they were simply human, the basest of human needs.

The wail of a newborn babe sounded in the room, stealing his breath. He stepped forward and saw one of the most beautiful sights. Covered in blood, her face and skin red, Harry's daughter took her first breaths of life. Her head was covered with the palest of down, almost white in color. Thought her eyes were screwed shut, he remembered Harry speaking of sea foam green, and was sure they would be such. She waved her little fists around frantically as the medi-nurse took her from Robert's skillful hands.

Severus tracked her progress, his eyes glued to her tiny form. He watched as she was cleaned up, her skin paling as the blood was washed away. The flow of voices moved around him, but he heard none of it. Mesmerized, he saw the nurse cast a scanning spell over her. He took a step forward.

A warning bell sounded suddenly, shattering the tiny bit of peace they had all shared. Severus' eyes snapped back to Harry as Hermione cried out. Harry's body, which had been laying still on the bed, began to buck, arching off the bed in a horribly sharp arc. His mouth and eyes flung wide open, a scream ripping from his throat.

Robert pressed his hands down on Harry's shoulders, trying to minimize the thrashing. Harry's arms flailed about, striking at everything and nothing as the air in the room began to heat up drastically.

"What is happening?" Severus yelled over the rushing noise that now filled the room.

Robert spared him a panicked glance. "His magic. It's out of control. Best I can guess, it was wrapped around the baby in a protective cocoon, and now that she's not there, it is trying to locate her."

Severus stepped up close, laying his hand on Harry's burning hot head, stroking his fingers over the skin even as it scorched his finger tips. "What do we do?"

Robert shook his head. "I don't know," he replied grimly.

Hermione had taken Harry's hand as it tried to claw the newly closed skin. "Bring the baby here," she commanded, a fierce look in her eyes. Severus thought she looked like a goddess of vengeance like that, blood coating her hands and the front part of her shirt. Her hair was frizzing out, her eyes flashing.

The two men shared a look, before Robert called over his shoulder for the baby. The nurse came forward slowly, pushing against the great heat caused by Harry's innate wild magic. Her skin cracked under the pressure and she made a small sound of distress. Severus took Harry's daughter from her, laying the baby on the man's chest.

As quickly as it started, all the heat left the room, the air suddenly much lighter. Harry's body settled down, a fine sheen of sweat covering his exposed torso. The baby made a little squawk, opening her sea foam green eyes. Harry opened his, a sigh leaving his lips. He shared a look with his daughter, then smiled.

"Welcome to the world, Ellie Aurora," he whispered happily. He took a chance and looked at Severus. The man's eyes were dark with a deep emotion, and Harry knew he had made the right choice. With another sigh, his eyes rolled back into his head as the linger pain and exhaustion overwhelmed him once again.

* * *

A/N2: Baby's here! I am delighted to present her to you. Kudos if you can guess the reasons behind her name. And yay for Sev! He has a heart! Just don't expect him to get all gushy on us. These two have a long road ahead of them yet. Anyway, Thank you all for the amazing support you have shown. There is much more to come.

Also, as my darling readers continue to request more of this story, and as I am so wrapped up in it, I have decided to fore go NaNo this year. Meaning, you will not have to wait an entire month for an update! See, I love you all that much. Hope you enjoy this one, and drop me a line anytime.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: yada yada.. not mine. Robert, Richards, Martha and Ellie are, however. *cuddles OCs*

A/N1: Wha! 100 faves! Oh wow. Have to say thanks right off the bat! I'm flabbergasted.

Slight warning- some fluff, some OCC-ness.

* * *

**Foolish Games Part 7**

Two weeks.

Two weeks had passed since the birth of Harry's daughter, and the man had yet to awaken. After pronouncing her name to the occupants in the room, he promptly fell unconscious. The stress upon his body, especially that inflicted during the burst of his wild magic, had torn at his insides, damaging a few of his vital organs. The blood loss was perceived at first as minimal. But hours after the birth, Robert, alarmed by the redness of the sheets covering Harry's body, discovered his patient was bleeding rather profusely. Slicing across his sun kissed chest, a few deep gashes seeped his life force. Further investigative scans determined damage to one of his lungs, several ribs having broke sometime during the ordeal.

Robert was baffled, at first. There had been no indication the Harry had been cut during his fit. He shook his head in confusion. "I've never seen anything like this. It's almost like his body is punishing him somehow."

Watching the younger man, pale and rasping in breaths, Severus frowned. "What do you need?" he asked Robert quietly. Hermione sat off to the side, holding the sleeping Ellie. Her face was pale and drawn with concern.

"Why didn't you catch this before?" she questioned, her tone accusatory. Robert shot a look at both of them before turning back to Harry.

"I think his further injuries are due more to the attack of wild magic he suffered after the birth. As it was directly after, his body was not allowed the opportunity to heal in any form." He shook his head, then looked back at Severus. "I need all the Blood Replenishing potions you have, Severus." He sighed. "This could be a long night."

Severus said nothing, taking one last glance at Harry before flooing back to his house. In the comfort of his potions lab, he felt his legs give out, his body sliding down the closed door. Hanging his head, his breath shuttered out of his body as his hands began to shake. He shoved them both through his hair and closed his eyes. "Please," he whispered, a silent prayer. "Don't take him. He has too much to live for still."

He sat there until his limbs stopped trembling. Slowly rising to his feet, he stumbled to his potion stores, grabbing at all the Blood Replenishing potions he could find. Holding ten vials in his hands, he could only hope it would be enough for now. The first chance he got, he would brew more.

He took a few more moments to completely compose himself. It would do no good for anyone to see the cracks in his mask his worry for Harry caused. With his cloak billowing behind him, he re-entered the floo and stepped out into Harry's room. The room, filled with quietness, almost felt stifling. Robert stood, speaking to one of his medi-nurses, her long brown hair swaying along her back as she shook her head. Robert rubbed a hand over his tired face. His eyes shifted to rest on the Potion Master. The look there was one of anxiety.

Hermione restlessly paced the length of the room now, rocking the baby as she cooed. Her gazed fixed on her friend, she worried her bottom lip fiercely.

"Has there been any change?" Severus asked, striding over to Robert and handing over his precious potions. Robert nodded.

"He's getting weaker. I have half a mind to move him to St. Mungo's, at least until we can get his body repaired. The scans are showing that his organs are trying to shift back into their respective places."

"Trying?" Severus echoed.

"Yes, trying." Robert shook his head, frustration written all over his face. "I don't know what's wrong, exactly. My earlier assessment seems to be true. His body is fighting with itself. Now that Ellie is gone, it appears confused. The shifting inside of him is only intensifying the bleeding. I really need to be able to operate."

"And St. Mungo's would be the ideal place for that," Severus concluded. Robert nodded. Severus stepped up to the bed, his hand resting on Harry's hot forehead. He watched the man struggling to breath. Finally, he turned back to the Healer. "Then go, take him."

Hermione's head shot up and her eyes widened. "What? No. You can't just decide that. You have no right to," she shouted. The noise startled Ellie and she began to cry pitifully.

Severus glared at the woman before him. He reached out, taking Ellie from her arms and placed her down on Harry's chest. Harry gave a sigh, his breathing becoming less laborious. "Would you rather he die, then, Mrs. Weasley? I assure you, if he continues without the proper medical care, he very well could."

Hermione blanched and shook her head. "No," she conceded. She knew the stoic man was all too correct. They couldn't lose him now. "Alright," she looked up at the Healer. "Do what you need to do."

Robert, observing the battle of wills, gestured to the two sleeping occupants. "If what happened earlier is any indication, Ellie will need to be near by. Harry's magic is too volatile to take any sort of risk. And I don't fancy having the hospital leveled should it get out of control."

Ellie opened her sea foam eyes and blinks a moment before settling back to sleep again. Hermione nodded in agreement. "Could you set up a private room, perhaps. Somewhere on the same floor as the operating room?" she requested, thinking of Harry's continued need for privacy. She shivered at the idea of the media, and Draco getting a whiff of Harry's condition, not to mention his daughter.

Robert gave an indulgent smile. "Of course, Mrs. Weasley. We will take every possible precaution to ensure his safety and Ellie's too." He turned to Severus. "I'll go ahead and get rooms prepped. Could you follow with Harry and Ellie when I call? I shan't be long."

Already moving to find another blanket, Severus nodded. "Of course. We will be awaiting your call."

* * *

The move was hurried and filled with trepidation. Anxiety ran high through all involved. The last thing anyone wanted to see was the loss of Harry. Hermione shuddered to think what might happen to not only Ellie, but Severus as well.

She realized, off-handedly, that when Severus had made the decision to allow Harry's move, he was effectively proclaiming future responsibility for Harry's well being. Giving the harsh man a side long look as he paced around the room set up for Harry's recovery, she had to wonder if he himself understood the implications of his actions. A small smile, the first in hours, drifted across her face as she watched him pick up Ellie, cuddling her to his chest, and resume his jaunt around the room. He actually looked quite comfortable, holding Ellie. If not for her spun white gold hair, one could almost assume she was his.

A jolt of worry went through her suddenly. Harry couldn't hide the darling babe forever. His life was too much in the public eye. Although, she had to hand it to him, and Severus both. They had managed to hide Harry's pregnancy throughout the months. Not even a whisper had been heard on the gossip chains of his condition.

"Professor," she called. He paused, giving her a inquiring look. "I was wondering how you and Harry kept his pregnancy a secret all this time."

Severus looked down at the sleeping baby in his arms, before settling into a chair next to Hermione. "It was not what we did so much as what we didn't do." He shook his head at her confused look. "Harry, as you should remember, has been rather reclusive following his departure from Mr. Malfoy. His cottage is un-plottable, and with the amount of magic I felt protecting it during my first encounter, it is apparent any intruder that would attempt to find him would be dissuaded quite easily."

Hermione thought this over then nodded. "That makes sense. And after his Quiddich accident and his coach grounding him it would be that much easier for him to stay out of the public eye."

"Indeed. He was most fortunate to obtain Robert as his Healer. He understood Harry's need for this to stay private. And the floo network is an useful tool when one wants to travel without being seen."

Hermione tapped her lip with her finger. "Do you think he will be able to maintain the same with Ellie? I don't want to even think about what Draco might do if he knew."

Severus too had thought about Draco's reactions if he were to know. "Mr. Malfoy is too concerned with his image as the Wizarding world's playboy to be even halfway aware of what might be going on around him," he said, his words tinged with disgust. The boy may be his godson, but his actions as of late, both towards Harry and after, were unbecoming for a pure-blood. "If he were to acquire knowledge of his daughter, it is my belief he would see her has damaging to his reputation."

Hermione frowned, a deep line marring her pretty brow. "I don't understand it at all. He and Harry were so happy. They fought so hard to be together. How could he do what he did to Harry? It's like he completely reverted back to his old Malfoyish behavior. He became the total git we knew in school." Her eyes teared slightly. "I can't imagine how Harry felt during it all."

Severus shifted Ellie slightly in his embrace, taking in her perfect features. "I happened upon Harry shortly after he left Mr. Malfoy," he confided. It amazed him slightly, that he felt comfortable enough with his former student to converse like this. _Love really does make a difference, _he reflected. Then, he smirked slightly mentally. Merlin but he was becoming a sap. He returned his attention to his companion.

"His appearance was quite distressing. Suffice it to say, he reminded me of the boy I taught in the latter part of his fifth year."

Hermione gasped softly. She remembered all too well how hollow Harry had been after Sirius' death. Watching him move about the school had been painful to say the least. "Oh," she breathed.

"Indeed," came the reply.

Hours later, a tired but triumphant Robert joined them. He shared a tired look with the two adults in the room and sank down into a conjured chair.

"He'll live," he told them, answering the questions flashing in both their eyes. "And his magic is well intact. I've placed him in a healing coma for now. Obviously we will be watching him closely. But, I think within a week, he should be healed sufficiently to bring him out of the coma. We all know how powerful he is. It should accelerate his recovery rate. How's Ellie?" He peered at the bundle in Severus' arms. "She seems to be comfortable, Severus."

"She has been napping for the most part since we got here," Hermione answered.

"What will be done about her feedings?" Severus asked. "And her care while Harry is indisposed?"

Robert took her from the Potion Master, checking her over with a soft smile on his face. "I can assign a medi-nurse from the Nursery to help with her care. You are both very busy, obviously. And she needs to be near her father."

Hermione shook her head immediately. "No, I'll stay. I have some vacation time saved up. She needs a familiar face, I think."

"And Mr. Weasley will allow this?" Severus asked, snidely.

Hermione shot him a glare. "Quite honestly, Professor, I don't care if he does. His attitude towards this whole situation has been just awful. I decided already that I would help Harry however I could. Ron will just have to put up or shut up," she replied, a hard edge in her voice.

Severus was a bit taken aback. He had never seen Hermione stand with such backbone. Ron had obviously stepped over a certain line with her. He nodded with a look of admiration. "I too can take off some time to be here when needed. Perhaps in the evening? It will allow you to spend your nights at home," he offered. Hermione nodded in agreement.

Robert grinned. "Sounds like a plan to me. I agree with Mrs. Weasley here. It would do Ellie good to have people around her that she is familiar with. And as you two have already formed a bond with her, I think your continued involvement is ideal." He stood, stretching slightly. "I'm sure Harry would approve as well."

* * *

So began the almost lazy days of the following week. Harry's room was turning into a small apartment, with another bed, Ellie's bassinette and a private bathroom. A couch sat off to one side of his bed, and two chairs occupied the space by the window. The room looked somewhat homey, for a hospital room. And in the middle lay Harry, asleep in his healing coma.

A casual routine was set out by Hermione and Severus, each satisfied with their time slot. The mornings and afternoons belonged to Hermione, who had taken a two week leave of absence from work. Whether or not Ron approved was never disclosed, but Severus could tell by the firm set of the young woman's jaw, her husband would be hard pressed to divert her from her course.

Severus himself would arrive just after dinnertime. His business tended to pick up in the summer months, and he found he needed to hire an extra assistant. The young man was competent enough, he supposed. Richards was often left in charge of closing when Severus could not. He discovered he liked the quiet of Harry's room after the hustle and bustle of his shop.

Here he could relax just a bit, letting the weariness of the day wash away. He sat in his customary chair, reading while Ellie cooed in her bed, wrapped securely in her fuzzy blanket. The sound was soothing to his ears, knowing she was doing alright. She was a remarkably pleasant baby, with her bright wandering eyes. Severus could see the intelligence flashing within their colorful depths.

Not that it should be surprising in the least. She was the offspring of two rather incredible wizards. Harry, for all his lack of skills in potions, was by far heads above any wizard of their time in defensive spells and other such subjects. And Severus had determined early on in their re-formed acquaintance, that the younger man was very well read and intelligent in a quiet way. It was true he would never be on Hermione's level. But he was by no means stupid.

Draco, too, was arguably bright, as his scores in school had attested to. He, unlike his former partner, had not had the pressure of constant death treats looming over him. And the domineering force of his father had only served to intensify his drive for furthering his education.

No, Severus reflected, Ellie would most certainly be a very bright little witch, a credit to both her blood lines. And with Hermione and himself to watch over her as well, her success was assuredly guaranteed.

He paused, shocked. Somewhere in the past week, his mind had come to the decision to continue as a part of Ellie's, and by extension, Harry's lives. The fact that he was not second guessing this was testimony to his earlier thoughts. He was well on his way to falling for this little family.

The medi-witch on duty entered the room, interrupting his thoughts. He raised a brow as he watched her bustle around the room. Robert's team were well informed of their duties and the need for secrecy in regards to their famous patient and his daughter. Each one was adept, and Severus, although usually quite cautious, felt at ease with them all.

"How are we tonight, Mr. Snape?" the older woman asked, her dulling brown eyes sparkling. Her grey hair pulled into a gentle bun, and her golden glinted glasses gave her the appearance of a kindly grandmother. Of the three, she was the one Severus respected the most. Her years in the field made her both knowledgeable and reliable. Her bedside manner, gentle and caring, when dealing with Harry and Ellie only served to endear her more.

He nodded, closing his book and setting it on a side table. "As well as can be, Martha."

She gave him a smile. "Of course you are Severus. As if you could admit to being more than alright?" she teased.

"I will be such when Mr. Potter here awakens," he replied, trying for an indifferent tone, and failing. He continued watching her as she ran her wand over the prone pale body of said man. She nodded at the results and turned back to him.

"That should be very soon, then. His vitals continue to rise, and his magic is stable enough that Healer Robert said he would lift the healing coma tomorrow." She ventured over to Ellie's bed, the lines on her face softening dramatically. She preformed the same scan on the baby. Severus stood, peering down at the wide awake little girl.

"How is she?" he asked, drawing those glorious eyes to his. She scrunched up her face with a yawn that ended in a squeal.

"She's well, those nutrient potions are doing wonders in catching her up in her development." Ellie responded with a sneeze. Martha grinned and picked her up, making sure her swaddled blanket was tightly wound around the tiny body. She handed Ellie to Severus. "She'll be hungry here shortly. I'll go prepare her bottle."

Severus cuddled the baby to his chest and made his way over to the window. Ellie squirmed about, working her way up to protesting her empty stomach. Severus swayed a bit, looking out over the courtyard. The darkness below was lit only with the lights of charmed lanterns, their waving light casting weird and wonderful shadows over the lawn. "Someday soon, you will be running around in the grass with your daddy." His gaze turned sad. "Where will I be then?" he asked.

"Right there with them," Martha responded, reentering the room. Severus turned, giving her a mild sneer.

"You seem to presume too much, Martha," he told her, handing Ellie back over to the aged nurse. She sat down in the rocking chair. Smacking noises soon followed as Ellie enjoyed her meal. With a smirk of her own, Martha shook her head, pinning the dark man with a knowing look.

"Somehow, I think it is you who presumes too little. Mr. Potter will not be so hasty as to toss you aside. You two have formed a bond over the past months. Robert told me of the birth. You cannot say that he was not happy to see you there," she challenged.

Severus frowned, remembering that night only a week ago, and the joy reflected in Harry's eyes as he looked at Severus. He could not simply say it was due only to Ellie. No, there had been emotions in those emerald depths that were for Severus alone. He could kid himself, hid away behind his wall of denial, but after the months they had spent in each others company, Severus knew Harry's eyes never lied. The younger man had truly been at the very least relieved that he was there.

He sighed, knowing it would do no good to argue to point with himself, or Martha. So he inclined his head slightly. "I will not deny he looked somewhat pleased to see me. But what that means for my place in their lives has yet to be determined." He sighed deeply.

Martha transferred Ellie to her shoulder, tapping the babe lightly on the back. She leveled a hard look at the man now perched in his chair once again. He seemed to focus on the younger man before them, his lips drawn tightly into a concentrated frown. "Don't sabotage it, Severus," she replied, drawing his attention back to her for the moment. The frown grew more pronounced. She tutted, clicking her tongue at him. "Don't give me that look. You have something going for you here, friendship or more. Don't do something to sabotage it."

Severus glared at the wise woman. "I do not sabotage my relationships, Martha," he shot back petulantly. "I simply do not have them at all."

Martha had to laugh a bit. "Too right you are, my dear. You haven't had one ever since you hurt that poor boy's mother." Her eyes lingered on Harry, the expression soft. It remained so as she looked back to the brooding older man. "Lily was a fine girl, but she was by no means perfect. You both did wonders in maiming your friendship. However, she forgave you in the end. And you tried your best to make amends, I know. Harry, here, knows that too, I'm sure. And from what I can tell, he forgave you long ago."

Severus said nothing, dipping his head down as his inky hair fell in a curtain, shielding his face. It was a move Martha had seen before, in his younger years. She knew he was feeling vulnerable, and so gave him a moment of silence. When she spoke again, it was in a whisper. "So why can't you forgive yourself, and allow yourself the happiness you want so badly?"

"I still have much to make up for," he responded from behind his shield.

"We all do, Severus." Martha's hand reached out, touching his knee in a form of familiarity few were allowed with him. "Just don't let your attempts at being perfect destroy the chance you've been given. It wasn't for nothing you were the one to take care of him all this time. Remember that."

Slowly Severus' pale hand brushed over the top of hers and he raised his head. "I'll try," he whispered in a voice that sounded much younger. She nodded, rising from her chair slowly. Walking over to the bassinette, she laid the sleeping Ellie back down, casting one final scanning spell on her. With a satisfied look, she did the same to Harry before turning back to the now silent Potions Master. With a press on his shoulder, she vacated the room, allowing the small family some peace.

Severus stumbled out of his chair as soon as they were alone, his eyes glued to Harry. Martha's words resonated within him, strengthening the strange feelings he had now began to understand to their fullest. The push and pull he had put not only himself, but Harry through during those final months boiled down to one single emotion.

_Love._

And by Merlin, it scared him to death. The idea he could have a second chance to do something good, to make up for the loss he inadvertently created in Harry's life- it was overwhelming to say the least. His knees buckled as he reached the side of Harry's bed, his hand clutching the frail pale one in his. He bowed his head against their joined hands, his breathing heavy and deep. His eyes slid closed, the lids too heavy to keep open in the onslaught of such powerful feelings.

For once in his dark life, Severus saw a light shining that was meant for only him. And for once in his life, he wanted nothing more than to hold on to it as long as he could. Harry's hand tightened slightly on his. He looked up, only to find the man still slept. But he was there, just under the surface. Just waiting to wake up.

And so Severus sat there that night, grasping that hand as if it were the only thing keeping him together.

At that time, it truly was.

* * *

Robert was most relieved the next morning, to find the results from the scans to be wonderfully promising. He told Hermione and a tired looking Severus, that everything was mending at a fine rate and would continue to do so, even after Harry regained consciousness. With a smile and a flourish of his wand, overly dramatic in Severus' opinion, he ended the healing coma spell.

Silence descended on the room as everyone waited with bated breath for those dark emerald eyes to open.

And waited.

And waited.

After an hour had passed, Robert's face began to pinch into a frown. His eyes narrowed as he once again reviewed the scans results. Running a hand through his graying hair he shook his head worriedly. "I don't understand. He should have woke up by now. There is no indication that his bodily functions are decreased, or that his magic is too low. I wouldn't have ended the coma if that were the case."

"And his brain activity?" Severus voiced.

Robert shook his head again. "Normal. By all means, he should have woken right up. This doesn't make any sense."

"Things rarely do when it concerns Mr. Potter here," Severus commented ruefully. Hermione shot his a dark look and grabbed Harry's hand.

"It's cold," she remarked suddenly, her eyes wide in horror. "Why is it cold?"

Robert, too, made a grab for his other hand. He waved his wand, catching Harry's temperature. "It's a little low, but nothing too significant. Although, his skin temperature is much lower than we would normally see."

"Perhaps he just needs time to readjust?" Hermione asked, her voice quiet with fear. A fear Severus felt himself echoing. He stepped up beside her, his eyes running over Harry's body quickly.

"Could it be his own body put a secondary healing coma spell on him?" he suggested.

Shrugging, Robert tapped his lip with his finger. "I've never heard of that happening before. But I suppose, give Harry's magic reserves, it might be possible." He shared a look with the other two. "If that's the case, we will have to wait until his magic relinquishes its hold on the spell." Then he stepped away. "In the meantime, I will look into this matter further. It's best to cover all our bases, just in case. Can one of you remain with him a little longer?"

Hermione and Severus nodded in unison. "Of course, Robert," Severus answered.

The Healer nodded his thanks and disappeared. Almost immediately, Hermione sank into the couch, her head in her hands. Silent little sobs wracked her frame.

Severus stood there, frozen with uncertainty. Offering comfort was still something so foreign to him, especially when he didn't understand why she was in need of it. He cleared his throat lowly. "Come now, Mrs. Weasley, is there really any need for this outburst? I understand Gryffindors are prone to the over display of emotions. But Harry will be fine, he simply needs more rest." He tried his best to sound sympathetic.

Hermione raised red rimmed eyes and a small smile broke across her features, puzzling Severus even more so. "I know Professor. I'm not upset, not really," she said, wiping at the lingering tears with her sleeve, a rather childish move in light of her age.

"Then the reason behind this emotional show is?" he asked, his tone clipped.

Hermione tried to glare, but didn't quite achieve it. Instead, her smile grew. "I'm happy, actually. After all this, he'll be okay. He'll finally be alright, and Ellie will have her Daddy." Her smile drooped off, her eyes refilling with tears. "I was just so worried, you know? That Ellie would end up like Harry. I could never imagine what it would be like, going through life without parents." She paused, sobbing quietly. "I remember when we were on the run…looking for the Horcruxes. Harry and I went to Godric's Hollow. Did you know?" she asked.

Severus shook his head. "No, Harry and I tend to not speak of that time."

Nodding in understanding, Hermione sighed. "I suppose he wouldn't. Although, I always thought he should talk about it more. I think he bottles it up too much. Even when he was with D…Dra…," she faltered slightly. "With Malfoy, he never really opened up." She shook her head minutely. "We went there, it was snowing. Ron had just left us not too long before. Harry felt their fight more than I did, I think, even if we were the ones dating. Trust me, their fight in your living room was nothing compared to that one. They always tend to say the worse things to each other, really hammer their buttons, you know? So when he, Ron I mean, left, Harry decided it was time to move. We ended up there."

Her eyes took on a far away look, and Severus watched, drinking up her words. "The graveyard, it was all covered in snow, and I kept thinking how peaceful and pretty it should have been. But it wasn't. It was horrible and cold and…" her voice cracked once again. "His eyes, Professor. They were so filled with pain. It was the first time he had ever even been there. I think it struck home for me just how precious having our family around us is." She stood, taking slow measured steps to Ellie's bed. Her hand trembled terribly as she touched the infants soft cheek. Her eyes lifted to meet Severus'. He could see all the sorrow and hope she held for her friend and his little daughter.

"No one ever deserves to go through that kind of pain. Ellie and Harry least of all," she said. Something unfathomably deep flashed through the brown depths, and Severus understood in that instant the double blade of her words. He nodded his head in agreement.

"They won't, Hermione. Not while they have people like you in their lives," he assured her.

If his use of her given name caught her off guard, she covered it well. Instead, she let a small smile flit across her lips. "They are just as lucky to have you too, Severus. Harry knows that very well."

Severus remained silent, recalling his earlier conversation with Martha. It seemed everyone had caught on before he had. He wasn't quite sure what to make of that. Despite his own admittance, he was more than a little reluctant to acknowledge his place in the future of the Potter family to others. Perhaps, however, it was not in his grasp to make such an acknowledgment after all. Settling back into his chair, he watched over the two friends for the rest of the night, dozing off in the early dawn hours.

* * *

Sometime before breakfast, Hermione had slipped out, so that when he awoke next, the room was devoid of conscious life. From his position in his chair, he could tell Harry's condition remained unchanged. Baby Ellie too was still blissfully asleep, her little lips parted as she breathed. He observed her for a while, taking in her perfect little features. A part of him still scoffed at the idea of Potter having such a child, while the other part soundly told him to shut it. Harry himself was a beautiful man, looking much less like his father in his adult years, and more of a graceful mix between his lovely mother and his paternal grandfather, who was admittedly a roguishly handsome man in his time.

A smirk formed. Oh if only James Potter could see his son now. He wondered what he and Lily would have thought about the direction their son's life had taken. Looking down at Ellie, he decided they would be rather proud indeed.

* * *

Days passed without a change in the still comatose man. There were indications that he had some motor skills- a twitch of the finger, or the turning of his head to the side. And yet, those green eyes remained sealed shut. On the fourth day, Robert was to the point of exasperation.

"It's inconceivable that he should still be like this. All his injuries are almost fully healed, and his magic grows exponentially stronger every day, as long as Ellie is near. I simply cannot see why he is still out," the frustrated Healer growled out.

Hermione handed him a steaming cup of tea and shook her head. "Harry's stubborn. He's always done things on his own timetable." She placed a hand over the younger man's. "He'll come around soon, I know it. He has a beautiful baby to see."

Robert smiled slightly. "Well, Mrs. Weasley. It seems your opinion has turned around."

Hermione blushed a bit. "No, I just needed to remember who my friend really is. He's a fighter, and he'll come back." She plucked Ellie from her bed, grabbing the bottle off the nearby table and began to feed the little one. Ellie made happy smacking noises as she drank, filling the room with the sound.

"You're right of course. His body obviously put him in this state for a reason, and once that reason is fulfilled, he will be with us once more." He shrugged his shoulders tiredly. "I guess I forget sometimes there is only so much we in the medical trade can do. It's up to the patient to want to get well. Or in this case wake up." He waved his hand as he exited the room. "Make sure you go home tonight. You look like you could use a bit of rest."

Hermione nodded, focusing back on her task as the Healer slipped from the room. Home had been a bit of a tense place to be as of late. Ron was still sore over her decision to spend so much time in St. Mungo's with Harry and Ellie. In some ways, she could understand. He was her husband, after all. But Harry needed her more than Ron, and she would not go back on her word, no matter how big a fit he threw.

Of all this, Severus knew only a little. He refused to stoop so low as to pry into Hermione's life, a gentle sort of respect having been established between the two. He was an observant man, however, and could deduce that there was still trouble between the two. Trouble caused no doubt by the current situation their friend found himself in. Regardless of the fault, Ron, it appeared, was one to hold a fierce grudge, and to act hotheadedly in accordance with said grudge.

It was sad, really. To see a grown man behave as he had, and still continued to. So it was with great surprise that Severus walked in on a distressed red head six days into Harry self-imposed coma. The younger man sat beside Harry bed, his hands folded and hanging down between his parted knees. His head was bowed, his shoulders speaking of defeat.

Severus observed the man for a moment, then cleared his throat softly. He took great pleasure in seeing Ron jump out of his chair, whirling around so fast that he nearly fell to the floor on his arse. Ron righted himself quickly, his face turning as red as his hair. His eyes narrowed immediately as he spotted the imposing Potions Master standing in the room.

"What are you doing here?" he asked gruffly, looking very much like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Severus cocked a brow. "Might I ask you the same thing, Weasley. Last I recall, you wanted to be as far away from Mr. Potter here as possible. Come to gloat, have we?" he challenged.

Ron lifted his head, jutting his chin out in defiance. "No," he shouted back.

Ellie stirred, making small whimpers. Severus walked quickly over to her bassinette, placing a hand on her tummy. "I would advise you, Weasley, that if you are to remain in this room, you keep your voice down. Your foolish outburst are not any more welcome here as they were the last time we spoke," Severus warned the guarded man.

Ron took a moment, and Severus could tell he was attempting to reign in his temper. The redness to his face drained away and slowly his fists unclenched.

"Now, in answer to your prior question, it is not any of your concern why I am present here. However," he held up a hand to still Ron's next outburst. "I will enlighten you. I am here as one of Ellie's caretakers. Just the same as your wife has been. The Healer in charge requested that we both look after her until such time that Mr. Potter awakens. As he has yet to do so, I continue to fulfill my task."

Ron had no choice but to nod in understanding. Hermione had told him a few thing about Harry and what was going on. Which was why he was here. Distress for his friend, and remorse over his own actions prompted him to seek out the sleeping man's room, in hopes that he might gain forgiveness, or at least a form of peace after seeing Harry.

Peace, though, was fleeting. Harry's condition, when fully explained to him, gave his already bleeding conscious, a swift kick into gear. He realized what an utter git he had been. How serious the situation had been with Ellie's birth and Harry's ordeal afterward drove home how close they had all been to losing him. He would never forgive himself if they had parted on bad terms.

He watched the stoic older man tend to Ellie with practiced movements. "The medi-witch was in here a little bit ago. Said she looked right good and healthy. Her weight is coming up good too," he said.

Severus nodded. "She should be able to leave as soon as Harry does," he replied, recognizing Ron's attempt at civilized conversation. "And Harry?"

Ron shook his head. "No change. I had his Healer explain it all to me, but it still sounds a bit dodgy. Sometimes I think Harry's too powerful for his own good, Dark Lord be damned or not."

Assured that Ellie was sufficiently settled and happy, he turned his full attention to Ron. "We have no way of knowing what might have happened had he not been. It may be his power that has enabled him to survive all of this."

Ron flushed. "I didn't mean that it was bad, exactly. Just…well…kinda dangerous for one person to contain that much magic. Hermione said if it got out of control, his magic could level this place." His eyes shifted around the room, surveying the layout for any noticeable weak spots.

Severus found himself sneering in amusement. "It appears your friend has a rather strong amount of control over his magic. As long as Ellie is nearby that is."

"Ellie?"

"Yes. Ellie appears to act as an anchor of sorts for Harry's wild magic. If it can detect her presence, it remains under control."

A pensive look crossed Ron's face. "I've heard of something like this before. A bond of sorts. Although it usually happens with a bonded couple, not so much with parents and children." He chuckled a bit. "Trust Harry to be the exception to the rule."

"It's a blood bond," Hermione's sweet voice floated in from the doorway. She paused just inside, surveying the situation. When she received a nod from Severus, she proceeded forward, walking up to her husband and pressing a kiss to his cheek. She squeezed his hand with a soft smile. "I'm glad to see you here," she said softly. Ron blushed and nodded.

"A blood bond?" Severus echoed.

Hermione sat down on the couch, a small book in her lap. "I got to thinking about it last night, and decided to do a little research. I don't know why I didn't think to look before." She shook her head at her own lack of knowledge. The two men shared a look. They were both rather well acquainted with Hermione's thirst for knowledge.

"So that's why you had such yourself up in the library last night?" Ron questioned.

"Of course," Hermione replied with a roll of her eyes. Severus snorted as Ron shook his head. "Anyway. I found this old book that described the different bonds known here in the Wizarding world. There are magical bonds, and marked bonds. The rarest of all is the blood bond. It takes in not only its namesake, but also links the magic of the two, or more participants. However, it is most commonly seen in a mated pair from pureblood family lines."

"Hence its uniqueness," Severus commented in understanding.

"Exactly. For Harry and Ellie to share such a bond hasn't been heard of in over a hundred years." Her eyes sparkled with excitement. "Can you guess the last recorded paternal blood bond?"

"St. McClowd's child?" Severus asked.

Hermione nodded her head. "He was bonded to his father, the sire. Which in itself is odd."

Ron shook his head. "No, it makes sense. The sire was probably the stronger of the two magically. And so the bond attached to the one that had the greatest chance of survival. Didn't you say the wizard that carried the baby died after the birth?"

Silence fell on the room as Hermione and Severus stared at the red head incredulously. Ron shrugged. "What? I'm not a complete idiot. And I am from a pureblood family, still. No matter our financial status. We kids were taught stuff, you know."

Hermione laughed, placing a soothing hand on her husband's arm. "I know honey; I guess I forget that sometimes."

"Regardless, Weasley's right. In this case, Harry is the obvious choice for magical strength. However, that brings into question what would have happened if Harry had not survived," Severus said, taking a seat in the chair opposite the two. It was a sobering thought. "For all we know, it is quite possible the baby needs such a bond to survive during it primary months. Much like Ellie needs physical nourishment, her magical core may need sustenance as well."

Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment. "So Ellie's magic is feeding off of Harry's then?" she asked.

"That would be my assumption. It could also explain his need for the continued coma. It keeps his magic level in check, allowing for the constant siphoning by Ellie," explained Severus.

Ron threw up his hands in exasperation. "If that's the case, who knows when he'll wake the bloody hell up. He could be like…that guy who slept a long time…you know?"

"Rip Van Winkle?" his wife suggested. He nodded with a smile. She returned it.

"Van Winkle was a fool," Severus snorted. "He drank the Draught of Living Death and had to wait until someone found him and gave him the antidote. His actions were pure irresponsibility."

Hermione had to bite back a laugh. Trust their old Potions Master to know the real story behind Irving's legend. "Even so, I don't think Harry will be out for the next twenty years, or so. In fact, I have a feeling he will be with us in the next few days."

* * *

Once again, Hermione's uncanny knack of perception was unerringly correct. For someone who did not put much stock in "the noble art of Divination," she had to admit, when it came to Harry, she had the sight. Only 48 hours after their conversation, Harry returned to the world of the living- and conscious.

It began with a twitch in his right hand, the fingers moving and grasping at the covers. That twitch moved up his arm until the limb was trembling uncontrollably. Spreading through out his upper body, the entirety of his upper half was thrown into a thrashing fit.

By the time Severus got back into the room, holding a cup of warmed tea, Harry was arching uncomfortably off the bed in a move much reminiscent of the night of Ellie's birth. His mouth was open, his lungs gasping for air that seemed just beyond their reach. His eyes widened horrifically, flittering back and forth.

Hot tea splashed on the floor, burning Severus' leg, but he didn't even notice in his mad dash to Harry's bedside. The alarms ran out in the hall, alerting all who were in on his care, that something was terribly wrong. The noise woke up Ellie, her little cries adding to the congestion of sounds in the room. Severus was torn between comforting the little one, and helping her Daddy.

Thankfully, the choice was taken away from him as Robert entered the room with a swirling of his lab coat that put Severus' own bat style to shame. Severus swiftly moved away, allowing the Healer to take over. Picking up Ellie, he cuddled the whimpering babe to his chest. Her cries only increased.

"Robert, I think he needs her," Severus called out above the noise. Robert nodded, taking a step back so that the concerned man could lay Harry's daughter upon his chest. And just like before, Harry's body calmed, his magic forming a bright cocoon around the two.

And then… those gorgeous green eyes that had been shut for far too long fluttered open slowly. He squinted slightly, the light in the room too bright for his eyes. Robert immediately lowered them.

"Harry," he called cautiously, placing Harry's glasses on his face. The younger man rolled his head to the side, taking in the other occupants in the room. His eyes lit up with recognition.

"Severus?" he questioned, his voice raspy from disuse. He held out a hand, the trembling still very apparent.

Severus stood frozen. The look of relief on Harry's face was almost too much for the stoic man to take. Then he shook himself mentally. He had determined he would allow Harry to make the first move, and here he was doing so. Severus would be a fool to ignore it now. Taking a few steps forward, he took Harry's pale hand in his own, worried still by the coolness of the man's skin. Harry's small smile nearly blinded him as he felt him squeeze his hand.

"I hoped you'd be here," Harry said. "I needed to tell you something, and I was afraid you'd be gone already."

Severus tensed, shaking his head mutely. Robert took this moment to walk up beside the Potions Master. He began running his wand over Harry, noting the different colored results. The tension broke at his movements, the moment gone, but the knowledge still lingering between the two.

"Harry. You gave us quite a scare there, young man," Robert chastised lightly.

Harry smiled, running his free hand over his daughter's tiny back, his fingers tracing the contours of her spine. "It feels like I've been gone forever. How long was I out?"

"All together, two weeks. You fell unconscious shortly after her birth," Robert replied.

Harry nodded. "I remember holding her, and telling you and Hermione her name, but not much else. I'm at St. Mungo's aren't I?"

"You are. You suffered from some heavy residual injuries. We agreed it would be best to bring you here for an operation," Robert responded, then smiled at the concerned look Harry gave, his gaze immediately combing the room for the possible reporter.

"Come now, Harry." Severus' tone was slightly amused. "Surely you do not think we would allow such pests near you after all the lengths we went to keep your little situation a secret, now do you?"

Harry's pale cheeks infused with color, giving his skin an attractive glow. His head shook and he chewed on his lower lip. "No. Sorry. Force of habit, I guess." He relinquished his hold on Severus' hand when he realized his was still clutching it, his blush growing more pronounced.

Severus, on the other hand, felt the loss of warmth acutely. He folded his arms across his chest in a effort to still their shaking. It wouldn't do him any good to reveal himself just yet.

"Well," Robert spoke again, tucking his wand away. "You look to be in good health. A few more days of rest and I think you and this darling can go home by Friday."

Harry's eyes flashed with joy. "Really? Home."

"Yes home, provided you don't slip away from us again," Robert chuckled.

Looking sheepishly at the Healer, Harry adjusted himself into a sitting position, carefully moving Ellie to his shoulder. The little one seemed completely oblivious to the going-ons around her. "I'll try not to, really," Harry assured them both.

Robert nodded, pressing a hand onto Harry shoulder, before trailing it over Ellie's downy head. "Glad to hear it. I'll leave you alone to get some rest." He shot Severus a knowing look, then left the room.

Now alone, Severus had no idea what to say to the new father. Harry lowered Ellie into the cradle of his arms, rocking her gently as he took in her beautiful little features. He raised glowing eyes to the older man.

"She's perfect, isn't she?" he asked with pride only a parent knows.

Severus' lips twitched into a smile as he sat down. "She is. Although, I confess I had trouble believing she was the product of you and Malfoy. She's far too lovely for your offspring," he teased, unaware of the caring tone he was using.

Harry laughed, watching in awe as his daughter opened her eyes and smiled at him. "I'm with you on that one. She's so beautiful." He traced his finger along her cheek. "She has his cheekbones, and hair. But I think she got my nose." Ellie cooed at him and his smile widened.

Severus sat quietly, taking in the miracle that was Harry and his daughter. He could honestly say that at the moment, he felt perfectly content. Harry's hand on his knee directed his attention back to those stunning green eyes. He watched as the orbs darkened with emotion.

Harry licked his lips briefly. "I told you her name. I want to tell you why I decided to call her that," he said softly. He paused, his eyes never leaving Severus'. "You've been a life saver, Severus. During my pregnancy. And unless I miss my guess, during the birth and my time here too. I'm not sure what I would have done without you around."

Severus shifted in his chair, the intensity of Harry's gaze getting to him. "Harry, I merely did what was right given the circumstances."

Shaking his head, Harry squeezed the older man's knee. "No. You and I both know you went far beyond that. It's meant a lot to me, you know. Still does. I wanted to show you that." He took a deep breath. "Your mum… her name was Eileen, right?"

Severus nodded.

"And you lost her when you were young. And my mum, being Lily… well it only seemed right that they both be honored…" his voice trailed off, hoping Severus would catch on.

The dark eyes lit up as understand dawned in them. "Ellie…Eileen and Lily put together?" he asked. Harry nodded. Severus sat there, completely speechless. All linger doubts of his continued place in this man's life crumbled. It might not be what he wanted completely, but it was more than enough of a start. Overwhelmed by the sentiments implied in Harry's gesture, and knowing no one had ever done something like this for the harsh man, Severus rose from his seat. He took several steps back, his eyes glued to the questioning green of his Harry.

"I need a few moments, excuse me," he hurriedly said, rushing from the room.

Harry sat there, stunned at the expression he had seen flash through Severus' eyes. The man looked shaken. And yet… there had been something so much more intense in those black depths. It was the same one he had caught the last time they had seen each other.

Something that terrified and thrilled him at the same time. Something he hoped he might get the chance to explore somewhere down the line. He kissed the golden top of Ellie's head and smiled into the fluff.

"Well, little one, your middle name just might apply to more than me. Ellie Aurora, you're my new dawn. Think you might be his too."

With a sweet coo, Ellie quite agreed.

* * *

Outside, in the hallway, a dazed Severus stood against the wall. Harry's words and the implications of them echoed in his mind. His mother's name a part of Harry's legacy. It was just too much for him to deal with right now. Pushing himself away from the wall, he strode down the empty hall. On his way to the private floo, he passed by Ron and Hermione.

"Snape," Ron called out, taking in the pale man's haunted gaze. He looked completely lost. "What happened? Is Harry alright?"

Severus nodded blankly. "He woke up, you can go see him," he responded emotionlessly. Hermione placed a hand on his arm, her face wracked with concern.

"Are you alright, Severus?" she asked. He gave her a dark look and shook off her grasp.

"I'm fine. Nothing for you to be concerned about." He swiftly spun on his heel. "Excuse me," he snarled, walking away.

The Weasleys watched as he disappeared, twin puzzled looks on their faces. "Bloody hell, what was that all about? He's back to being a git again," Ron said.

Hermione shook her head. "No, Ron. Something happened. I'm just not sure what."

"Well, that's no excuse for him to be such a prat to us," Ron frowned, his tone clipped.

Sighing, Hermione dragged her husband down the hall. "Just leave it be, honey. Let's go see Harry."

Peeking into their friend's room, they were met with a sweet sight. Harry sat dozing lightly with Ellie reclining on his chest. The little babe was awake, her bright eyes blinking as she peered at what little surroundings she could see. Harry's eyes opened when he sensed their presence. His smile was guarded as he watched Ron enter behind Hermione.

"You're awake! Severus said you were, but… Oh Harry, it's so good to see you," Hermione gushed, racing over to enfold Harry in a hug. She held him for a moment, then pulled back, her eyes narrowed. "Harry James Potter, if you ever scare us like that again, I'll hex you so badly, it will make Ginny's bat bogey hex look like a tickling charm."

Harry laughed, placing a kiss on his friend's cheek. "I'll hold you to that, 'Mione." He dipped his head. "Ron," he said coolly.

Ron stepped up beside his wife, running a nervous hand through his red hair. "Good to see you, mate," he said.

Harry raised a brow. "Is it?" he asked.

Ron nodded. "Yeah. Right…so, I um… wanted to say I'm sorry for being such a git earlier. I was really out of line. I figured you'd have to be mental to intentionally get up the duff. Even if it gets you a little one like Ellie," he concluded.

Harry shrugged. "It's a bit nuts, huh? Guess I had a close shave there, yeah?" He held out his hand, and Ron grasped it in a hand shake.

"Yeah, reckon you did. Bloody scary too. You can't do something without trying to die, can you?" he teased. The trip shared a laugh, bringing Ellie's sea foam eyes to their direction. "She's a real beauty, though, Harry. Even if she has _his_ hair. She'll be a knockout when she gets older."

Harry nodded, shifting her in his arms. "I guess I better learn some 'keep away' spells, no?"

Hermione smiled. "Severus might have a few of those. Or a potion or two," she suggested. Then she sobered. "Speaking of…What happened between you two?" she asked. "We saw him on our way in here, and he looked…well, a bit out of sorts. Did you two quarrel?"

Harry shook his head, looking thoughtful. "No, not at all. We actually had a kinda deep little talk. He left in a rush, however."

"Harry, he looked upset. He even snapped at us. Whatever you talked about, it obviously effected him," Hermione stated.

Frowning, Harry turned his face to the window. Had his revelation really thrown the man off that badly? He never would have thought it. Hermione's hand on his arm brought his attention back to her. "I'm not trying to pry, Harry. But what did you say to him?"

"I told him why I chose Ellie's name. I didn't think…" his frown deepened. "I thought he would be pleased. I guess I was wrong."

"Why did you pick Ellie? I would have thought you would call her Lily," Hermione asked.

"Ellie is a tribute to both Lily and Eileen, Severus' mum. I don't know…It seemed appropriate at the time." Harry's eyes shown bright with emotion.

Ron squeezed his shoulder. "It's alright mate. I'm sure he was just stunned. I mean, he's not even Ellie's dad, and you gave him a part of her legacy. It's a big deal for some," he explained.

"Legacy?" Harry asked, puzzled.

"Yeah, it's a Wizard thing. Mostly pure blood, but some halfs follow it. It's kinda like the god parents tradition. To give Ellie part of Severus' mum's name is to assure his place in her life," replied Ron.

Understanding lit through both Hermione and Harry's eyes. "Oh…" Hermione breathed.

"Yeah, oh. Placing that kind of honor, especially over Ellie's sire…It's pretty big."

"Damn." Harry rubbed a hand over his face. He hadn't meant to do something like this. He supposed Severus was furious with him, considering he hadn't even asked. "I don't know what to do now," he hung his head.

"Nothing you can do, mate. The deeds done," Ron shook his head.

"What do you mean, Ron?" Hermione asked. Her husband turned to his wife.

"Once a name is pronounced out loud, it is inscribed in the birth records, and in the register at Hogwarts. There is no way to undo it, unless the child chooses later on."

Harry's head whipped up, his eyes wide with fear. "You mean somewhere there is documentation of Ellie?"

Ron inclined his head slightly. "Yeah." He paused. "And Mate, you should know that it includes her parentage too. Her full familial line. Malfoy's included."

"Oh shite," Harry groaned. Hermione shared his sentiments.

"Surely there is something Harry can do to keep it a secret."

"He could request that they be sealed until she is of age. But you have to have a damn good reason to do so," Ron replied.

Harry just groaned again. Hermione squeezed his hand. "We'll figure it out, Harry. We always do, don't we?"

Harry tried to smile and failed. "Thanks 'Mione. I guess I had better think on how to keep her safe once we get home, too. Me hiding out is one thing. It's not fair to her to spend her life like that. I should know."

Hermione shared a look with Ron. "For the first few months, you really should spend time with Ellie. She really doesn't need to be out and about anyway. And whatever you need, you can have owled to you. Or just ask us and Severus."

"Somehow, I don't think Severus will be quite so willing." Harry's face looked pained.

"Give him time, Harry. I think he's just shocked. Talk to him when he comes back," Hermione admonished.

"_If_ he comes back," Harry countered.

Hermione rolled her eyes and smiled reassuringly. "He will. He's too invested to not, whether he knows it or not," came her answer.

Harry didn't quite understand what she meant, but chose to leave it for now. With a large yawn, he gave his friends a sleepy smile. "Thanks guys. I'm glad you were here."

The two gave him a big huge, and Hermione kissed his head, then Ellie's. "We'll stop by tomorrow. Get some rest, alright?"

Harry's head bobbed briefly. "Will do." Hermione lifted Ellie from his chest, setting the baby back into her bed. "Thanks," he called out as they left the room. In no time at all, his eyes drifted closed and he was asleep, blissfully lost in his dreams.

* * *

A/N2: I have mixed feelings about this chapter. Some parts I really love, others I wasn't so sure about. I've tried rewriting it several times, and finally came to this draft. So I decided to move forward. I'm looking forward to writing the next few chapters. Chapter 9 will be the first of two major time skips within this plot. Just to warn you all ahead of time.

I adore Ellie. And I'm pleased with the feed back I've gotten with her introduction. Kudos to those who guessed the meaning behind her name ahead of time. I wanted to address the concerns voiced about her blonde hair. It is a very vital detail to the plotline, as will come to light in coming chapters. Draco will not be a problem for a while to come, so never fear. Ellie's blood line will come into play as well...*giggles*

And no, just because Severus has come to realize certain things, their relationship will not be rushed. Harry is gaining knowledge, although he is still quite oblivious as to what that knowledge means. Hope that fields any questions on that account. Feel free to ask me what you like, although I will not give out spoilers.

One last note...(I know this is horribly long) I have an LJ now specifically set up for my fanficts. I have a few planned that will be edited here, and not on there. It is set up as a friends only, so you will need to send me a request to gain access. If you want the address, just PM me, or leave it in a review.

Thanks so much, and happy reading.


	8. Chapter 8

Standard Disclaimer applies. I only own the plot and the ocs that run through here.

A/N: I know.. been forever. Sorry about the late update, but I'm giving you a twofer! Beware of the Fluff ahead! And thank you for the reviews/favs and alerts. I'm still amazed at how much you darlings enjoy this.

* * *

**Foolish Games Pt 8**

Undoubtedly, Severus could now count himself as a cowardly man. Right and true coward. There was no mistaking it, considering his recent flight from Harry's room. He had been given something wondrous. A chance to be a part of his desires. And instead of accepting it like he should have, he fled. Leaving behind a sweet Harry and his beautiful little girl.

Harry must be so confused. Severus was sure he had no idea the implications Ellie's name meant to someone like the older man. He hadn't been raised with the knowledge of Wizarding traditions. Severus groaned, running a stained hand over his face and glaring at the potion he was attempting to brew. He had done a fine job of mucking up both. With a growl, he banished the congealing liquid. It was becoming obvious he would accomplish nothing today. The clock told him it was far past closing time. He wracked his brain, trying to remember if Richards had even alerted him to this fact before closing up.

With an annoyed expression, he extinguished the lanterns lighting the lab and shut the door with more force than was necessary. Somehow the sound was soothing to his beyond frazzled nerves. He slammed the shop door just for good measure before Apparating home.

That night, he found no comfort in the silence of his home; his thoughts far too loud inside his mind to grant him any semblance of peace. He had a feeling it would remain this way until he settled his emotions in regards to Ellie and Harry. And that was something he stubbornly wanted to avoid. No good could come from all this, he was sure.

'_Or maybe that's what you are afraid of, hmm? That something good will come from all this, and you will be forced to change,' _his inner Lily taunted.

"I thought I was rid of you," he grumbled. She laughed, the sound as sweet as he remembered. Harry's laugh sounded a lot like hers, holding that innocent mischievous quality, he reflected. Damnation, why did everything have to come back to him?

'_Silly Sev. I'm a part of you; you can't get rid of me that easily. Just like Harry and Ellie. They're a part of you now too, aren't they?'_

Severus shook his head. "No," he replied vehemently.

Lily gave a heavy sigh. _'Why do you persist in being so stubborn? Why can't you simply accept what is happening? You care about him, even love him. But your denial is only going to drive him away, eventually.'_

Severus laughed bitterly. "You have to have something first before you can drive it away, Lil. You are assuming there is something mutual between us."

'_Isn't there? Didn't you already decide you felt something for him? Can you say after your last conversation that there is nothing there? Not even the faintest spark?' _Lily inquired. Severus shifted his gaze away from the window he had been gazing out of. The blackness of the night outside offered little view, but it suited his mood perfectly.

"Yes, I can. There is nothing there beyond mutual respect. Nothing more. Not for him, and if I have my way, not for me as well. And there will never be anything else."

"_Oh Severus. Then you truly are a fool,' _Lily whispered sadly, her presence inside his mind dissipating.

Severus laid down heavily on his bed, his eyes trained on the ceiling above. "Why is it that everyone is so determined to ruin that boy's life? I am the last person he should be involved with." He threw an arm over his eyes and grimaced. "Oh Harry, what have you done now?"

Hours later, as sleep continued to flirt with his befuddled mind, he finally flung the blankets off his lean body and rolled out of bed. He would get no rest tonight, he knew. His body protested his getting up, but he ignored the slight pains. He needed to get away, somewhere that didn't remind him of Harry so much. The younger man's presence still lingered in his house, haunting his consciousness.

Aching with unresolved questions and frustrations, he dressed quickly, intent on seeking the one place he could call a second home. Maybe there, he would be able to stifle his emotions and regain some of his demolished mask. Only then would he return to Harry's side, and settle into his appropriate place as his friend.

He could live with that, couldn't he?

* * *

Somehow, he knew by the twinkling in Albus' painted blue eyes, the former headmaster had been expecting his attendance. He sank into a chair across from the painting, his pale face drawn and tired.

"How are you, my boy? You look…distraught." Albus' tone was softly concerned.

Severus let out a sigh. "I'm just a bit tired, I suppose."

Albus made an understanding noise. "And Harry? How is he?" the man asked slyly.

With a glare, Severus shrugged. "You would know as well as I, old man. You have access to him as well, do you not?"

"I might be able to look upon him in his room, yes. But his well being goes beyond the physical as you well know. And that, my dear boy, I am unable to ascertain. You would know of his emotional and mental health much better than me, yes?" Albus asked wisely.

Severus sank farther into his chair, too drained to keep up appearances. The old man, painting or no, was still a master manipulator, and Severus knew he had fell into his clutches once again. "You know of Ellie, I assume?" he began.

"I do. Her name has been recorded in the register already. A lovely name, too. Is that the problem, Severus? That Harry chose to honor the two women you loved in his daughter?"

Cursing the perceptive man, he nodded numbly. He gave a great sigh. "He gave me part of her legacy, Albus. I don't think he realized what he was doing at the time. He's too naïve to do so knowingly."

Albus agreed. Harry was a kind soul, but still lost when it came to most of the traditions surrounding his world. "So you don't approve of his decision?"

Frowning, the Potions Master had to think about the question posed. Finally, he shook his head. "No, it's a fitting tribute to his mum."

"And yours," Albus interjected. "Somehow, I think this was not a hasty decision that Harry made. Ellie Aurora hold significance to him, I'm sure. Whether or not he knew about legacies, his intentions were honest. If not based on deep emotions as well."

"It matters not, Albus," Severus replied, rubbing a hand over his tired face. "The facts remain that he has tied us together through his daughter, a child who is not my own. The repercussion that could come from this are grave. You know this, just as well as I."

"You are referring to Mr. Malfoy, I believe."

"Who else? Once Draco is privy to the knowledge of his daughter, Harry will be faced with a whole new set of difficulties." He shook his head, thinking of the complications the younger man could be subject to.

A frown crossed the old Headmasters' face. "You think he will cause trouble then?"

"I have no doubt he will. For now, his current fascination is with himself. But there will come a time when Harry and Ellie will be exposed. It is anyone's guess as to how he will react. But I can assure you, it will not be kind. You know how pure bloods are about their heirs. And Ellie, in all consideration, is Draco's heir. He will not take kindly to the situation," Severus concluded, a pained expression on his face.

"She is Harry's heir as well," Albus reminded Severus. The younger wizard nodded.

"I know. However, Harry retaining her existence from Draco…" he trailed off.

"It was my belief that you stood behind Harry's decision to keep her a secret from Mr. Malfoy."

"I did, I do. Draco missing out is nothing less than he deserved," Severus sneered.

"That's rather harsh of you, don't you think?"

"Perhaps."

Albus painted lips curved in a small smile. "Careful, Severus. One might begin to think you care for our young Harry." He paused, observing his friend's reaction. The man's cheeks flushed slightly and he bowed his head, his hair falling in an inky curtain to hide his face. "Then again, that is the real reason behind this visit, is it not?"

_Damnation._

The man was always too astute for anyone to really pull the wool over his twinkling eyes for very long. Nothing had changed with his death. Severus could not deny that Dumbledore was correct. Even the possibility of lying to the old man was out of the question. He had been Severus' mentor for far too long. With a sigh, he nodded his head, still unable to look up. He didn't want to see the knowing, or pitying look in the man's eyes.

"Whether I care for the boy is neither here nor there. It is ludicrous to even entertain such ideas," he replied, finally raising his head, his coal black eyes flashing with defiance.

Chuckling, Albus leaned forwards, pressing his fingertips together as he gazed hard at the now nervous man. Oh, most would be unable to see the change in the stoic Master. But Albus was no fool. He could see the emotion and tell-tale flush spread across his pale cheeks. "Is it? After all this time, is it really so unbelievable that you and Harry might be much more than mortal enemies? He is no longer a boy, but a young father now. It is time you realize that, Severus. Look past the walls you keep around you, and you might just see what you have been missing, and have so desperately wanted." He held up his hand, silencing Severus' protests. "Whatever your motives were going into this, it is quite clear that they have changed. And by Harry acknowledging your place not only in Ellie's life, but in his as well, shows that he recognizes that as well. Perhaps, it is time you thought not of just yourself, but of what Harry might want as well."

"I'm only trying to protect him," Severus retorted hastily.

"No, Severus. You're trying to protect yourself. Give him, and you, a chance. I think you will regret it in the long run if you do not," advised the older man.

Growling low in his throat, Severus wanted to refute, but could say nothing in retaliation.

Albus, it seemed was not done quite yet. "If you must think of yourself, then think of the future. Harry will not remain without a relationship forever. How will you feel, Severus, when he begins a new one, knowing it could be you? Will you be able to stand on the outside, looking in, as the family you love is taken from your grasp?"

Severus stood quickly, pacing around the room, his steps long and heavy. He shoved a hand through his hair, shaking his head repeatedly. No, in all honesty, he could not. It would be torture to see Harry's eyes light up with that loving look he gave Ellie, directed at some unworthy man. He might not find himself worthy either, but he was damned sure there would not be another who would understand Harry's history like he did.

"No," he finally ground out. "No, I couldn't." He lifted dark eyes filled with pain and determination. "No one knows him like I do."

Nodding, Albus' twinkle became even more pronounced. "Then I must ask you, Severus. What will you do now?"

The Potions Master shook his head once more. That was the question of a life time, wasn't it? "I think I need to talk to Harry," he responded.

"A wise choice, my boy. Go, and for once, be happy."

* * *

Two whole days had gone by without a word from Severus. Harry, already feeling as if he had made the blunder of a lifetime, and now more than a little worried about said blunder, was beginning to get anxious. He was due for release with Ellie the very next day. He sat quietly, fiddling with the fringe on his blanket as Hermione and Ron related their days events. Humming at the appropriate times, he was actually paying very little attention. His mind, distressed, lingered on the scene replaying through his head, the look on Severus' face, the tone of his voice. And his eyes, those deep, dark blacks flashing with such emotion.

He had thought that emotion was one of gratefulness or affection, and had such hopes of seeing just what that could entail for them. He could admit, with some reflection, that he felt a great deal for the stoic man. The months of close companionship had lead him to believe they had formed a bond as friends, if nothing else. His careful consideration of Ellie's name, and the meanings behind it had been long thought out.

And he had been sure that came across to Severus. So why the man had stumbled out of his room like a bat out of hell, and had remained absent, was a hurtful mystery to him. Even more so, Harry was at a lost as to how to rectify the situation, how to assure Severus that he had not meant any sort of disrespect to the prideful man. It filled his mind with doubts and his heart with pain.

"Don't you think so, Harry?" Ron asked.

Harry nodded mechanically, only to hear Hermione laugh. He looked up at his friends, his cheeks red and a sheepish smile on his face. "Sorry, guys. I was just…"

"Thinking about a tall, dark and temperamental ex-professor?" she finished with a slight smile.

Harry nodded again. "I'm confused," he confessed. "I mean, I didn't really expect him to come back, after all. But still…" he shrugged despondently.

"Oh Harry," Hermione whispered softly, sitting beside him and taking his hand. "He'll come back. He will," she assured him, seeing his doubtful look. "He loves that little girl, Harry. You haven't see how he is with her. It's honestly like she's his."

"'Mione's right, mate. Thought I'd never say it," Ron put in, grabbing a handful of nuts and stuffing them in his mouth. For a second, he closely resembled a chipmunk. The two friends laughed, eliciting a puzzled look from him. "What?" he asked, then shrugged. "Look he might not be my favorite person. I still think he's a greasy git half the time. But the way he is around you two, it's different. Can't explain it, really. He just is. Whatever's going on between you two, it'll work out." He nodded rapidly in affirmation to his own decree.

Harry smiled at his friends. "Thanks, guys. I don't know what's going on, but I don't want to think this is the end of his role in our life. He's a friend, and I still have too few of those to lose someone like him."

Hermione pressed his hand before standing. "Ron's right, Harry. Just give him a bit of time. He will be back." She took a moment to smooth down her skirt. "In the mean time, you need to get some rest, and concentrate on Ellie. What time should we be here tomorrow?"

"Around 11:00. Healer Robert said he'd have all the paperwork ready by then," Harry replied. "And thanks, really. I'm glad you've been here."

Hermione leaned over, giving him a quick hug, and Ron clapped a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "No problem, mate. We'll see you, then." With a wave and a final peek at the dozing darling, they left the room, leaving Harry to his thoughts. Those thoughts, still puzzling and erratic flowed through his mind long into the night. By the early dawn, he finally found some semblance of peace, both within his head, and in sleep. Whatever was happening between him and Severus was worth waiting for, he decided. Satisfied with that, he slowly slipped into the word of dreams.

Despite his late night, Harry was awake and dressed in Muggle street clothes when Martha came to check on him early that morning. He smiled at her serenely, his expression reflective of the calmness he held inside.

"Good morning," he chirped, folding his blanket into a neat rectangle.

The older medi-nurse's face held surprise that softened into a caring smile. "It's nice to see you up and about, Mr. Potter."

"It's Harry, Martha, you know that. I'm rather anxious to leave here, you know." He strolled over to Ellie's bed, picking her up as she waved her little fist about. His smile deepened to one of undeniable love.

Martha felt her old heart beat happily. They were a mesmerizing sight to see. The look of utter adoration and devotion Harry displayed would warm even the coldest of hearts. She had no doubt that little girl would have all the love in the world from her papa. "Oh, I can only imagine how much you are looking forward to going home." She made a show of pulling back the curtains, letting the peaking golden sunlight into the room.

Harry looked up for a moment, his smile now encompassing her as well. "Home. It sounds so nice, doesn't it?" He returned his attention back to his daughter, deftly checking her nappy. He was surprised how easily her care had come to him. After the first few times of fumbling with the nappies and several grimaces at the contents, he quickly learned the swift and easy techniques handed down through the female generations. Feeding, as well, had been easily learned.

Bathing his wriggling little lamb was a different story. Wet and slippery skinned, he felt more than a little fear that he would drop his precious bundle. Not to mention, Ellie wasn't too thrilled with the whole idea. She liked being wrapped up and warm, and bath time was quite the opposite of that. Her little cries of displeasure had shaken Harry at first. He hated seeing her uncomfortable at any time. Her distressful squeals had brought the frantic man almost to tears.

Thankfully, Martha, and his other medi-nurses had patiently shown him the fine art of bath time, reassuring the young father that Ellie was just fine, and no harm was coming to from a simple wash down. Despite all their help, Harry still felt a trifle anxious.

Settling into the rocker, Harry placed Ellie's bottle to her mouth, watching with a laugh as she opened her eyes wide and began immediately smacking her lips. Suckling noisily, she kept her gaze trained on her papa, her sea foam eyes still a bit hazy.

"Now," Martha's voice broke the silence that had fallen in the room. "We have a few things left to go over before we can release you two. She'll need her vaccinations and a final weight and measure. And Robert wants to check you over thoroughly as well. What time were your friends due to arrive?" she asked.

"Around eleven, I told them."

"Sounds about right. Everything all packed?"

Harry shrugged. "Yeah. Didn't have much here in the first place. 'Mione took what we didn't need over to the cottage last night."

Martha sat down on the couch facing the duo, waving her wand over the content Ellie. She hummed at the results. "My, but she is a strong one. Harry, you should be proud. Her magic levels are just astounding for a babe so young." She gave a Harry a rueful glance. "Although, that's only to be expected."

Harry rolled his eyes and gave her a goofy look. Then he sobered. "Martha, do you think I can do this, all by myself?" he asked quietly.

The older woman frowned. "If you are asking if I think you will make a good father, then yes, Harry. You know you are not by any means alone in all this. You have your friends, and Severus to help. And Robert and I are always on stand by." She patted his hand comfortingly. "You will do just fine, dear."

Harry sighed and nodded. If only he felt as confident. He moved Ellie to his shoulder, tapping her back lightly. She gurgled and let out a wet burp. He held her there a while longer, watching as Martha retrieved her empty bottle and cast a _scourgify_ spell over it. She placed it back in the packed diaper bag and gave Harry another smile.

"Don't worry so much. And try to relax."

"I will," Harry assured her with a smile of he own. She left shortly after, promising to return with Ellie's vaccinations. Feeling restless, Harry rose from his seat and began walking the length of the room. He was anxious to return home, there was no doubt. But the weight of the implications was heavy upon his shoulders as well. He would be alone. All alone. He knew Ron and Hermione would spend as much time as they could with him. However, they had their own lives to lead. And he would not rely on them continuously. He held no real hope for Severus' return. Even if the man did come back, he too had his own life. Harry would have to figure out day to day activities by himself.

"Merlin," he mumbled tiredly. Ellie babbled in response and he moved her to the crook of his arm so as to see her shining face better. "I really hope I don't mess this all up, love." Her coos and gurgles were reassuring to a point. He smiled warmly at her. Kissing her head tenderly, he closed his eyes. "Thanks."

* * *

Robert made short work of Harry's final scans and the sign out paper work. "I want you back here in two weeks, for a follow up, okay?" he told the younger man.

Harry nodded, zipping up his bag. "Sure. Ellie too?"

"Yes. You will be meeting her pediatrician then as well," Robert informed him.

Harry blanched. "She'll have a different doctor?" he asked, his tone laced heavily with anxiety.

Robert clamped his hand down on Harry's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "Don't worry, Harry. I have personally selected her doctor. She knows of the situation and has sworn a Doctor's Vow of silence." He leveled his gaze at the relaxing man. "You didn't think I would leave such things to chance, did you?"

Harry blushed lightly. "No. I guess I'm getting worked up over nothing."

Robert gave him a smile. "You have every reason to be anxious about the safety of your daughter, Harry. That's part of being a good parent. But you need to trust that I, as your doctor, have your best interest in mind too."

"Thank you, Robert," Harry said sincerely, signing the last form.

"It has been my pleasure, Harry. Truly," the Healer replied, taking the parchments from his hand and checking them over. "Alright, that looks to be about it." He cast a glance over Harry, Ron and Hermione. "You're free to go home, now. Just take it easy for a while, okay? It's alright if you rest, you know."

Hermione wrapped her arm around Harry's shoulders. "He will, Healer Robert. We'll make sure of it." She gave Harry a smile that had the man rolling his eyes.

"Oh goody," he sighed with a half frown. Hermione squeezed him tightly in warning.

Robert laughed at their antics, then stuck out is hand. Harry clasped it tightly. "If you need anything, Harry, don't be afraid to fire-call."

"Thank you, Robert."

The older man just waved. "Now off with you. Go enjoy your baby." He gave them one last smile and left the room. The trio stood there a moment, soaking up the silence.

"Ready, mate?" Ron asked, leaning down to pick up Harry and Ellie's bags.

Harry took one more look around and nodded. "Yeah. Let's go home."

* * *

At first glance, the cottage looked, for all intents and purposes, to be devoid of life. As well it should, considering not a human soul had entered it in over two weeks, save for Ron and Hermione's trip to drop off some of Ellie's things the night before. So it was a great surprise when Harry unlocked the door, to see a roaring fire in the front room grate, and the smell of gingerbread and coffee coming from the kitchen. A small _pop_ sounded as soon as the four entered the entry way. Tibby stood before them, a weird little grin on her face. She sported a newish handkerchief type skirt and her best pink top.

For most observers, Tibby's attire would seem unusual. But to the trio of friends, it was quite normal. Harry had long ago given her clothes, and Hermione, after resigning herself to the fact, contributed little outfits for the elf to wear. At first, Tibby was unsure why she should be in possession of such items. But after some careful conversations and assurances of her continued place with Harry, she gratefully agreed to wear her clothes.

Much to Harry's relief. It kept Hermione off his back, and honestly, made him feel more comfortable around the strange creature. With peace and understanding restored, Harry was surprised at the fashion sense the elf showed. Unlike Dobby's weird ensembles, Tibby managed to be not only color coordinated, but also wary of wild colored socks. It made Harry grin, although there was a sadness reflected in the expression.

Dooby's death had hit him so hard, and still years after, was a sore spot with the young man. Tibby had assured him that the elves didn't blame him in the least. While that eased some of the pain, the guilt remained. Dobby's death was senseless, and cruel.

He shook his dark head slightly to dispel the gloomy thoughts, looking around his home with a smile of content. It was so good to be home.

"Master Harry, sir!" Tibby exclaimed excitedly. Her huge eyes sparkled as she hopped from foot to foot. "And little Mistress Ellie!"

Harry bent down, pulling the blanket away from the sleeping Ellie. She had fallen asleep not long after their taxi drive had begun. Harry, ever cautious, had decided that Muggle transportation would be the best way to get the group home. Ron and Hermione agreed. With her still premature lungs, there was no telling what the soot from flooing would do. And Apparating was out of the question entirely.

Tibby peered at her young charge, a grin lighting across her face. "She's being a pretty babe, she is," the elf assessed.

Harry's laughter filled the air. "Thank you, Tibby. Everything alright, then?" he asked, watching with delight as Ellie opened her eyes. She seemed to sense the excitement surrounding her favorite people.

Tibby's big head nodded rapidly. "Tibby is making sure everything is ready for Master Harry and Mistress Ellie."

"Good." He motioned for Ron to set down their bags, which the red head did with a sigh.

"Blimey Harry, this place looks nice. Paid a pretty penny?" he asked, finally taking in all his surroundings.

Harry shook his head. "Surprisingly, no. I got it for a steal, really. It was an elderly witch's summer home. I guess she sold it to move closer to her family. The agent was happy to give it to me." He too looked around with a huge grin on his face. Turning Ellie out so she could gaze around, even though her sight was severely limited, he placed a kiss on her downy head. "Welcome home, Ellie Aurora." She gave a half giggle and waved her tiny hands around. The trio of adults laughed.

"Will Master Harry take tea now?" Tibby asked.

Giving his companions a quick glance, he nodded his dark head. "Yes, please, Tibby, Set it up in the living room. I'm going to show Ron and Ellie the rest of the house." He turned to the stairway. Rom and Hermione followed, chatting lightly.

Venturing up the stairs, Harry pointed out things he thought might interest his best friend. "Most of the stuff here came with the place. I did get rid of some of the gaudy things. You know, little glass figurines and stuff."

Ron paused at a picture up on the wall in the hallway, his face pale. "Harry, is that…?"

Harry nodded. "Yup, that's Salazar. He's actually kinda fun to mess with. Not as bad as you would think." He chuckled as the painted wizard glared at him. Giving a mock bow, he presented Ellie to the man.

The wizard's eyes lit up. "Merlin, Potter, is that your little one?" he asked.

Glowing with pride, Harry smiled brightly. "Salazar, may I present Ellie Aurora Potter." The little one reached her hand out to bat at the picture.

Salazar's hansome features stretched into a smile. He bowed deeply. "A fine witch, Harry. She will give you a bit of trouble, no doubt."

Harry grinned again. "No question about it. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if she ends up in your house. She is ¾ snake after all."

"Harry!" Ron cried in horror. "Don't say that."

Harry just gave him a look, causing his friend to flush. "It won't matter where she ends up, Ron. Slytherin would be just as good as any."

Ron nodded contritely, not wanting to get into it with his friend so soon after they had made up.

"By the by, another snake was here earlier," Salazar said slyly.

Harry's face lit up. "Severus?" he asked, then blushed red.

The wizard chuckled and nodded. "I believe he may have left his calling card in the babe's room."

Harry nodded and with a wave, was hurrying off to Ellie's quarters. Throwing open the door, he stopped with a gasp. The room looked much the same, with the exception of tiny faerie lights floating in ropes around the ceiling. The room, lovely before, was now cast in a warm glow. A gentle breeze floated in from the half open window. As soon as he walked into the room, soft music began to play.

"Oh," he breathed out, reveling in the welcoming feel of the nursery. Hermione and Ron came to a stop just behind him, their eyes wide.

"Oh Harry, it looks so pretty," Hermione said softly. Harry nodded, roaming around the room. It was amazing what the little touch of lights had done.

A throat clear quietly off to one side and Harry spun around. Detaching himself from the slightly shadowed wall, Severus walked forward, his eyes glued to Harry's face.

"Severus," Harry whispered. "You did this?" he asked.

The dark haired man nodded mutely. Quite suddenly, he found himself with an armful of Harry, having handed off Ellie to Ron. The younger man hugged Severus briefly. "Thank you," he said. "Thank you for coming back."

Severus, caught off guard, gazed down at the face burrowed in his robe front. He hesitantly smoothed a hand over Harry's shoulders, his touch light and tentative. His lips quirked in a smile, although he said nothing.

Hermione and Ron, stunned slightly at the outright display of emotion given by their friend, shared a look and quietly backed out of the room. This was not something they wanted to intrude upon.

"Do you think?" Ron asked.

Hermione nodded, understand what her husband had left unsaid. "Perhaps not now, but soon, I should say. If I'm not mistaken, Severus already knows."

Ron shrugged. "Harry on the other hand…"

"He'll get there. If he isn't already half way there already."

"And Draco?" Ron asked.

Hermione sank down on the couch, retrieving Ellie from Ron's arms. "We will all cross that bridge when it comes. But I think it is safe to say Harry is on his way to being over that prat."

"Just so," Ron replied with a nod of approval. He may not have been very fond of his ex-potions professor, but he could see the man was a fair bit better than the blond bad boy. And the look on the older man's face had told more than he probably wanted, but Ron was sure it was a good thing, not a hindrance.

Hermione couldn't agree more.

* * *

Harry finally pulled away, his cheeks a rosy color. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I didn't mean to fly at you like that."

Severus allowed him to pull back, feeling the emptiness settle in immediately. "I will not hold it against you," he replied, sharing a slight smile with Harry, taking the sting from his words.

Harry swiped at his eyes, realizing he had been tearing. He took another look around the room. "So you did all the lights, and the music?" he asked, trying to break the heavy atmosphere surrounding them. The air fairly hummed.

Severus nodded, watching as Harry strolled around the room once again. "I thought the lights would be beneficial at night, and would give Ellie a calming environment. They are charmed to extinguish with a simple _Nox _spell."

Eyes glowing, Harry came to pause in front of Severus. The dark eyes told him all he needed to know. This was Severus' way of apologizing and accepting the gift of Ellie's legacy, all in one go. "Thank you," he said again, hoping the older man would understand.

Severus dipped his head in acceptance. He gestured with his arm. "Shall we join your friends? I think they may have went down stairs."

Harry grinned. "Tea. We were going to have tea." He paused, giving Severus a searching glance. "Would you like to join us?"

His thin lips quirking a tiny bit, the Potions Master cocked his head to the side. "I suppose I can stand a bit of Weasley's incessant babble," he intoned. Harry's laughter followed them down the stairs.

* * *

Settling into a routine took a bit longer than Harry had anticipated. He had little idea what to except once his helping hands had gone home. While residing within the hospital, his movements had been scheduled, timed down to a science. Between the parade of medi-nurses and Hermione, he had time to himself, at times leaving the nightly duties to those willing to take over.

Now, however, he was left with just himself, and Tibby. Tibby, had he let her, would have completely taken over the task of Ellie's care. But Harry stood firm. He decided upon returning home, that everything pertaining to Ellie would be his and his alone to deal with.

He had not counted on Ellie having her days and nights mixed up, cooing and babbling well into the early A.M. hours. Nor had he thought of her midnight feedings and her rather vocal ways of insisting she got what she wanted or needed right away.

By their second week home, Harry was more than a little exhausted and wondering why in the world anyone would want to have a baby. After a particularly tough night, he threw himself on his bed, and buried his head under his pillow, wanting to bellow his frustration, just as his daughter was currently doing. Tibby, frantic to keep her family happy, rushed to and fro, trying everything she could think of to calm the wailing child, and her now groaning master.

It was amidst this chaos that Severus stepped through the floo, brushing stray bits of soot from his robes. His brow furrowed deeply as he took in the terrible amount of noise and one blur of a house elf.

Tibby skidded to a stop as soon as she spotted their visitor. "Master Severus, sir," she squeaked. He looked down his nose at her, his lips pulled into a frown.

"What is the meaning of all this racket?" he asked, registering Ellie's cries in the background.

"Mistress Ellie is being upset," she informed him. He fought the urge to roll his eyes heavenward.

"And where is her father?"

"Master Harry is being upset as well. He's is not sleeping well. And is trying to smother his self with a pillow," she replied, twitching.

Severus' eyebrows flew up. "Is he now?" He shook his head. "We shall see what must be done about all this, shall we?" He quickly strode up the stairs, a sputtering elf following in his wake. Stopping first in Ellie's nursery, he saw the infant was well on her way to a tizzy. Picking her up, he gently began rocking her back and forth in his arms. She squirmed, her cries still ringing throughout the house.

Undeterred, he placed her upon his shoulder, rubbing small circles along her tiny back. She quieted slightly, little sniffles sounding from her shaking body. Annoyed at Harry's laps in care, he left the nursery, stepping quite loudly through her room until he reached Harry's. There, in the middle of his bed, the exhausted new father was fast asleep, his face turned towards his daughter's room. Dark circles formed under his eyes, and his skin looked a touch pale. His face was pulled into a pained expression, his hand clutching his pillow in a fierce grip.

With Ellie now quieted, Severus couldn't quite bring himself to wake the younger man. He stood there in the joint doorway, observing Harry as he slept. It was a restless sleep, that much was apparent.

"How long has he been up?" he asked Tibby quietly.

"Many hours, Master Severus, sir. Since before dawn."

Severus frowned again. It was well into the afternoon already. "And Ellie?"

"She's being up at night, then sleeping in the day," Tibby informed him.

"I see. And her crying spell?" he inquired.

Tibby thought a moment. "She being crying since lunch, Tibby thinks."

"She's colicky, I believe. I will make sure your master has the potions he needs for that." He beckoned silently, shutting the door behind them as they left Harry to his nap. Once Severus and Ellie were situated in the plush rocker, Tibby flashed out of sight, only to return moments later with a tea service. He nodded his thanks, still somewhat disturbed by Harry's rather drained appearance. "Has he been sleeping at all, Tibby?" he asked.

"Some," Tibby replied. "Mistress Ellie's being up when it's nighttime."

"All the time?" he asked. The little elf nodded. He sighed deeply. Why hadn't Harry said something when he or Hermione had visited? Surely either one would have stepped in for a bit, allowing the new father some respite. "Prideful boy," he snorted. Of course, Harry would try to do everything all on his own, to prove he could be a good father without the help of anyone. And now, the younger man was on the brink of extreme fatigue. Severus shook his head. This simply would not do.

They hadn't worked so hard to keep him alive only to see him run himself into the ground only weeks after his return home. "Is there anything else I should know?"

Tibby hopped from one foot to the other, her ears flopping. "Master Harry's being shaky," she told Severus.

Severus paused in his rocking and Ellie made a small fussing noise. "Shaking?"

The elf nodded rapidly. "Master Harry's hands be shaking." She held hers out to demonstrate. Severus watched her for a moment, then nodded in understanding.

"Perhaps he wasn't as healed as we first thought. Has he talked to Healer Robert?"

"No, Master Severus sir. Master Harry just being clumsy, he says when he dropped his mug."

Severus closed his eyes tiredly, trying to ascertain the best way to convince his young friend the necessity of seeing his Healer again. "He has an appointment soon, correct?" he asked, shifting through his thoughts, and attempting to remember Harry's schedule.

"Yes, Master Severus," Tibby confirmed. Satisfied with her answer, Severus picked up his tea cup carefully. Watching Ellie trying to eat her hands, he smiled before taking a sip of his warm tea.

"Thank you, Tibby. You have been most helpful. Please prepare Ellie's bottle. I will feed her," he requested. The elf bowed then disappeared with a pop. Smiling slightly, he ran a finger along Ellie's soft cheek. "What are we going to do with you two?" he asked the entranced child. She simply blew him a bubble, still attempting to stuff her entire hand in her mouth. Fondly, he shook his head. What simply wonders could bring such joy to his life, and such worry.

* * *

Harry awoke in the dark, the sun having long since set. He sat up rapidly, frighten and disorientated by the silence. Swiftly, he flung off the blanket that had somehow ended up draped over his body. Shoving a hand through his hair, he climbed off the bed, calling for the lights as he went. He stumbled a moment, the room spinning around him. Dizzy, he pressed a hand to his aching head. Shuffling across his room, he peered into his daughter's. With a single glance, he could see she was nowhere to be found. Panic seized his heart as nausea ripped through his belly.

"Tibby!" he called, listening to the quietness of the upper floor, and the lack of Ellie's sounds. "Tibby!" A loud pop sounded and he winced at the noise. His house elf stood before him, her big eyes looking even brighter than usual.

"Master Harry," she said.

Harry bobbed his head, clutching at his curls. "Tibby, where's Ellie?" he asked, his voice tinged with alarm.

"Master Severus is bathing Mistress Ellie, Master Harry sir," the elf responded.

Harry let out a whoosh of air, sagging visibly. "Thank Merlin," he sighed. "Tibby, please bring me one of my headache potions. Has dinner been prepared?"

Tibby nodded. "Yes, Master Harry. Dinner is ready when you are." She snapped her fingers, disappeared and reappearing so quickly it made Harry's vision swim. He grabbed the potion from the elf's gnarly hands, drinking the vile liquid in one gulp. Thankfully, the potion worked quickly, and soon he could stand upright without the room looking like the tilt-r-whirl. Still a bit shaky, he followed Tibby down the hallway to the guest bathroom.

There, he stood, shocked into immobility. His customary black robes forgotten, Severus knelt before the large tub, his hair damp and his white shirt sleeves rolled up past his elbows. A much smaller plastic tub sat snugly in the wide expanse of the white marble bathtub. Slight splashing and a soft coo could be heard from within the room. Severus gently dipped the flannel he was using into the tepid water, smoothing it over the wriggling little Ellie. He made quiet sounds of comfort as Ellie waved her fists at him. Leaning too low, he was the victim of a well place blow to the nose.

Chuckling, he sat back, grabbing the towel from off the rack next to him. With an expert move, he swaddled the babe's wet body, as she tried to grab at the hair escaping its tie. Calmly, he pulled the towel snuggly against her form, and she ceased her movements, her eyes now focused on him. Standing carefully, he turned around, only to find Ellie's papa standing motionless in the doorway.

"Harry?" he called. The young man raised his bright green eyes to Severus', their depths filled with emotion. "Are you alright?" he asked worriedly, noting the still paleness of his skin.

Harry blinked a few times, then blushed. "Um…er…"

Severus shook his head. "Your intelligent response astounds me, Mr. Potter," he teased. He held Ellie close to his body, his large hands maneuvering her just so. "I trust your nap was well."

Snapping out of his trance, Harry nodded, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I did. But you should have woke me," he chastised, moving out of the doorway as Severus walked past. He followed his friend and his daughter to the nursery where Severus set about dressing the little one.

"Tibby informs me that you have been neglectful in your sleeping. I did not think it amiss for you to have some rest. You haven't been out of the hospital for that long," Severus reminded him.

Harry sighed, sinking into the rocker and pushing it with his foot. He watched as Severus diapered and dressed Ellie in her jammies. "Ellie, it seems, prefers the darkness to the light in terms of sleeping."

Severus nodded. "It is typical for an infant to have that issue. Most often, it works itself out."

Harry sighed again. "I hope so. I mean I know it's not like I have to be someplace everyday and what not. But Merlin, I don't like sleeping in the day. I feel useless then. And her crying. She started having these crying spells. They feel like they last for hours." The new father rubbed a hand over his face, then gratefully accepted his now content daughter from his companion's grasp.

Severus sat down on the couch for a moment. "It appears she has a touch of colic. I will leave some potions for her to take with her meals. Also, mention it to Robert when you see him later this week." He leveled his eyes at Harry with an appraising look. "Why did you not say something to either myself or Hermione about your exhaustion, when we were over here last?"

Harry shrugged, his chin squaring in defiance. "I want to do this myself," he simply stated.

Severus groaned inwardly. "I know Gryffindors are known for their martyrdom, and you more so than others. However, for once, I admonish you that asking for assistance in this regard is not only beneficial, but necessary. If your health becomes bad, it will effect Ellie as well."

Harry, taken aback by the wisdom in the older man's words, could do nothing but nod. "I guess I let things go too far this time," he admitted. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes for a minute. "I had no idea it would be this hard. Ellie is awake at all hours, and she fusses, and I don't know why. I try to figure it out, and when I can't I feel like I'm failing."

Allowing his companion a moment to vent, his gaze rested on the now sleeping Ellie. He stood, taking her gently from her father's hands. Harry's eyes popped open, and he watched quietly as Severus proceeded to lay the babe down in her bed. He too stood, walking over to stand beside Severus, his gaze soft as his daughter let out a small sigh. Turning his gaze to Severus, he narrowed his eyes in consideration.

"How is it you know so much about kids? I thought you hated the munchkins. You sure acted like it in school," he said reproachfully.

Severus straighten, motioning to the door. Harry followed without question. Together, they moved out of the room and down the stairs. "I never said I hated children. I simply have little tolerance for insufferable know-it-alls, and those who have a blatant disregard for the rules," he replied.

Harry snorted. "In other words, me and my friends." He gave a short shrug. "You know, Draco fit the bill too."

"Godson," Severus answered simply.

Glaring, Harry snarled. "And that means what?"

"He was, of course, granted some leeway." Severus caught Harry's glare and sneered. "Don't tell me Sirius didn't do so for you as well," he challenged.

Harry flinched slightly, his voice hitching. "He…" he paused in his refute, thinking of all the situations Sirius had indeed given him a longer leash than he probably should have. Fifth year, especially. Hadn't his godfather been willing to let him, a mere boy of fifteen, join the Order? Hadn't he encouraged him in his training of the DA? He nodded mutely, conceding the point.

Severus, catching the black mood that had descended upon the younger man, felt a pang of guilt. He knew the subject of Harry's godfather was still a sore point. He stopped just outside of the dinning room, placing a stilling hand on Harry's arm. He halted, surprised by the touch. "I know your godfather and I had our differences," he began.

Harry shook his head. "Don't, Severus. Don't. What they did to you, my father and Sirius, was beyond the pale. Anything you said about them, while it hurt, wasn't exactly uncalled for. They were bullies, and I'm still sorry for what they did."

"I was a bully too, Harry. You saw my memories. My retaliations were just as harsh. And I took out my anger on you for years, Harry…years."

"They tried to kill you," Harry replied vehemently, and Severus had to take a step back. This subject was obviously troubling him. The Potions Master could see Harry visibly tremble.

"I did too, Harry. If my _Sectumsemprai _had worked the way I intended it, what do you think would have happened to your father?" He paused. "Why are you so adamant about this?"

Harry shook his head rapidly, clenching his fist repeatedly. "I don't know really," he whispered. "I guess I look at Ellie, and I think about what we both endured, and I never want her to see that kind of pain."

"Pain is part of life, Harry," Severus reminded him quietly.

"I know that!" Harry bit out, then sighed deeply, scrubbing a hand over his face and into his messy hair. "I know," he repeated quietly. "But there are some forms of pain a child should never see."

Severus touched Harry shaking shoulder lightly. "I can assure you, Ellie will never have to go through what we did. She has you for a father after all."

A small smile touched Harry's mouth. "Between me and you and Ron and Hermione, I think she'll have a great childhood."

Severus could only agree.


	9. Chapter 9

Standard Disclaimer still applies.

A/N: Promised it was a two part. Just a note- This chapter covers several months in a somewhat rapid succession. This is intentional, as I didn't want to drag out the plot over small things. Again, Fluff abounds. But I'm hoping the end of the chapter makes up for it. *giggles* Bit of Ginny-like bashing. Nothing too heavy. She seems like the sort to be vey upset by rejection, especially the Harry kind.

Also, I am messing with the canon timeline, obviously. I know that Rose was born in 2006. But to suit my timeline, she will be born in 2005. I'm sorry if this puts off anyone. The same will apply for other births to follow. And for future 411- Ellie's birthday is May 5th, 2004.

* * *

**Foolish Games Pt 9**

Spring melted into Summer, and with it, the warming of the weather. Harry, standing out upon the balcony over looking his beach, gave a sigh of contentment. Behind him, soft music played in Ellie's room, the cooing of her pleasure filling his ears. Now at 3 months, she was more interested in her hands, which she had discovered could be clasped together in front of her face. Her sea foam eyes focused briefly on something above her, her little hands now reaching for the unknown object. Harry smiled, watching her innocent antics.

Harry had never been so happy. He found such joy in the simplicity of his daughter, the way she seemed to learn something new everyday. Her gorgeous little face had flashed a smile a few times, and it was like a breath of fresh air. Had someone told him a year ago that he would be delighted staying home, giving up his career just to spend time with a baby, he would have thought them nutters. Now, he couldn't imagine his days any other way.

Ellie, after six weeks of keeping Harry up at all times of the night, finally settled into a workable sleeping routine. She was still considered a night owl, not ready to close her pretty eyes until the moon was high in the sky. Unless it was a new moon, that is. On those nights, when the moon was noticeably absent, Ellie was more than happy to sleep early, and all night.

It was a curious phenomena, one nobody could explain. Harry didn't question it too much, just reveled in a full night's sleep.

"Harry? Harry, where are you?" Hermione's voice floated in from downstairs.

"In the nursery, 'Mione," he called back. The soft tread of Hermione's shoes stepped up the stairs.

"It's so pleasant here, Harry. I can see why you love it so," Hermione said, stepping up beside him. She took a moment to just bask in the loveliness of the day.

Harry sucked in a deep breath, filling his being with the simple smells surrounding them. "It gets that much more so with each season. For once, I think I made a good choice."

Hermione leaned against his shoulder, her hair tickling his nose. "You've made more than one, Harry. But I agree, this was a great find." He turned and smiled into her hair. "What's going on, 'Mione? You and Ron aren't due 'til tomorrow."

Hermione allowed herself one more minute of silent peace, before lifting her head. "I have something to tell you," she began.

Harry tensed immediately. "What is it? What's happened?" he asked, turning a concerned face to his friend. He took in her soft smile and her glowing eyes and relaxed.

"I know I should have waited until tomorrow, but I had to tell you. I couldn't wait," she replied excitedly. "I'm pregnant. Harry, Ron and I are having a baby!"

Harry's face broke into a huge grin, his dimples showing. He wrapped his arms around her, swinging her around the balcony. "Oh Merlin, 'Mione, you had me running scared there for a moment."

She ducked her head with a blush. "Sorry. I was just…"

"Excited," Harry finished, the two friends dissolved into giggles. "I'm so happy for you two. Does Ron know yet?" he asked.

Hermione nodded her lovely head. "I fire called him at work as soon as I got the news. He's taking off from work early." She sighed gently. "Can you believe it, Harry? A baby, a cousin for Ellie to play with! They'll be in the same year at Hogwarts even."

Harry grinned knowingly. Trust Hermione to be thinking of education at a time like this. "How's he taking it?"

Hermione giggled again. "I think he fainted. I told him, and then there was a long pause, followed by a thump. Then it sounded like his partner was yelling at him for face planting right on the floor."

Harry tipped his head back and let out a laugh. He could honestly see Ron doing just that. "I assume he did call you back."

She nodded. "Yes, after almost a half an hour had passed. Then he was sort of quiet."

Harry hugged his friend again. "He's just in shock. I'm sure he's excited too," he assured her, seeing her suddenly concerned face. He grasped her hands tightly. "Don't worry."

A small smile flitted across her features and she squeezed his hands in return. "I know. Thanks Harry. Still on for dinner tomorrow night?"

Harry shrugged. "Of course, if you're still up to it."

Hermione embraced her dark haired friend and then let go. "We wouldn't miss, Harry." Almost floating out of the room she paused at the doorway. "Thank you, Harry."

He just shrugged again, waving his hand around. "Don't mention it."

* * *

Harry sneaked into the nursery on a hot late August night. Adjusting the cooling spell keeping the air light and comfortable, he took a quick peek at his daughter. She was growing so fast. Now nearly four months, Ellie was finally sleeping the whole night through. However, this development did not help Harry much, as his nightmares returned to plague him nightly. He found his only solace in the presence of his resting daughter.

Hence his reason for now slinking into the room, humming a light tune. Ellie stirred slightly, then settled with a sigh only the young can give. He smiled, tracing his finger lightly over her baby soft cheek. Her little lips pursed in a pout, her brow wrinkled in a tiny frown. Harry chuckled under his breath and removed his finger.

"Sorry, little one," he whispered, then watched in surprise as her hair turned from the beautiful golden to a deep dark violet. Frozen for a moment, Harry's eyes widened. Then he shook his head, seeing her hair again return to its normal color.

"I should have guessed," he murmured. "Looks like you have a bit more of your father's side in you, hmm? His cousin was a metamorphmagus too. And your cousin, her son Teddy is one as well." He shook his head ruefully. "Merlin help us all when you two get older."

Ellie slept on, her hair now a mix of blonde and purple, a glorious smile on her pink lips. She brought a healing balm to Harry's soul, quieting his mind in the wake of the violent storms he saw when he closed his eyes. Their magic hummed warmly between them, their bond reflecting the inner calm that Ellie seemed to always hold, and thankfully bestowed upon her papa. They were able to spend time away from each other, but only briefly still. Hermione was certain this would change and adapt as Ellie grew older and gained more control of her magic.

Meanwhile, as he basked in the comfort Ellie brought him, he also worried about the weakening of his magic as it fed the bond still. Simple spells, he found, took more concentration than he was used to. And anything that required more magic than a silly household charm, could drain him for the entire day. For once in his adult life, Harry felt the almost unbearable restraints he had place as a fail-safe on himself after her birth as a burden. He felt like he was 12 years old, and once again subjected to the Minstry's Restrictions for Underage Magic.

He heaved a great breath and fell into the rocket beside Ellie's crib. "I'm tired, sweetness. And worried. What if I'm not strong enough to sustain you until you are able to do it yourself? Everybody assumes that I've some sort of infinite well of magic." He scoffed. "I wished they'd see I'm still just Harry. Just Harry."

A wide yawn broke from his body and he hunkered down, wrapping his arms around his stomach where a slight ache had formed. Maybe he should talk to Robert, or Severus.

He shook his head at the last thought. His interactions with the older wizard had been on this side of sporadic and strange. Severus came usually on the weekends, choosing to spend his time in the quiet cottage verses his own home. Harry would not begrudge the man his solitude. However, his visits had begun to raise questions in Harry's mind.

Still stoic, and at times snippy with Harry, he was always beyond gentle with Ellie. He truly was a natural, and Harry found watching Severus take care of, or playing with Ellie was fast becoming a favorite pastime of his. The tall, proud man relaxed in the presence of the little babe, his face unguarded and his eyes flashing darkly with delight. Harry, at times caught in the gaze, felt the heat suffuse his cheeks, his heart beating a hard tattoo at the sight.

Something had changed. He was sure of it. What, though, was the question? He knew Severus had accepted the gift of Ellie's legacy, and what it meant. Still there was this lingering tease that flitted through Harry's mind, saying there was something deeper here.

It was at times like that, that a cruel voice would haunt Harry's mind, chastising him for his fanciful thoughts and ripping his budding feelings into shattered petals of a broken rose. It heckled him, reminding him of his past sins, and his disastrous relationship with Draco. Ironically enough, the voice tended to take on the vocal attributes of his ex. The comparison was not lost on Harry, making his own guilt that much more acute. And when the blinding sweetness of Severus and Ellie shined upon Harry, it was all he could do not to run and hide.

At times, he couldn't even accomplish that. Overwhelmed by his own faults, he would excuse himself, leaving the two to their antics. He had no place wanting to share in the family like atmosphere permeating the play room. Confusion ran rampant through his body, searing his soul with wants and needs he himself could not understand. He had never felt this way when with Draco.

Theirs was such a whirlwind romance. Full hardy and young, having just come off victorious against Voldemort, Harry and Draco fell together like a whacked out puzzle. Somehow, their pieces, though mismatched, clicked, painting a picture that rivaled Van Gogh. It was a thing of dark beauty. A forbidden lust. Harry thought they were meant for forever.

Obviously, Draco disagreed.

Despite the pain still hot and lingering in his heart, Harry could not regret what they had done. He had Ellie after all, and nothing in this world or the next would ever make him feel shamed by his bundle of joy.

Ellie chose this moment in his pitying reflections to wake up, giggling about something only she knew. Standing and stretching his arms above his head, Harry realized it was either quite late or quite early. The stars still peeked out upon the blackened velvet sky. The moon waxed just over the dark expanse of mountains. Harry allowed its glow to lead him to his daughter's crib. Looking down, he saw her blinking her eyes, her face scrunched up.

With a laugh, he grabbed a nappy, prepared to continue his parental duties without complaint.

Well, maybe not loud complaints, but mumbled ones could be heard.

* * *

Summer waned away, giving itself over to Autumn like a gracious virginal lover dressed in vibrant, vivid colors. On the edge of the sea, the sea breezes took on a colder touch, the tang harsher somehow.

It was glorious, and Harry loved every minute of it. The trees danced, spinning their red and gold leaves, showering the forest floor with their bequeathed bounties.

At Hogwarts, autumn came with the force of a typhoon, the leaves changing almost over night. The Whomping Willow lost no time shedding its leaves. A shake and shiver and the leaves had dropped to the ground. Here, in Harry's piece of paradise, autumn was slow and gentle.

Perfect.

Ellie seemed to agree wholeheartedly. She sat in her little fuzzy jumper and hat, watching the ballet of the season's change. She giggled and waved her hands about as they preformed just for her.

It was here, in this little slice of heaven that Severus wandered upon the two who were fast becoming his world. He took a moment to observe them undetected. Ellie gazed about, her eyes flashing with interest. Her hair changed from blonde to a vibrate red, matching the leaves surrounding her. Harry sat beside her on the patchwork blanket, a gift from Andromeda Tonks.

The sweetest sound filled the air suddenly. Ellie giggled and Harry, throwing his head back in abandon, shared in her mirth. The mingling sounds were heavenly to Severus' ears. A smile graced his face. To see Harry like this- carefree- was a rare sight indeed.

In the months past, Severus had taken the time to quietly watch the younger man. Harry was an enigma, and continued to be so. His moods were constantly changing, from joy to exhaustive depression. The green eyes deepened with the pain of loss, or brightened with the peace that came from being Ellie's father.

Reclusive still, Harry was very careful whom he allowed to be within their inner sanctum. Of his old friends, the golden trio held strong. Ron and Hermione, while wrapped up in their own upcoming addition, still found time to spend with the small Potter family. As Hermione grew with their baby, she sought out Harry's advice, relying on him much like she would with another girlfriend.

Harry was a bit uncomfortable at first. But soon, he discovered it was nice to have someone who could relate. Together, they shared silly stories, once 'Mione was out of her morning sickness stage. And while some would assume this might irritate Ron, it was quite the opposite.

Ron found himself calling upon Harry to understand what Hermione was going through. Harry thought that after this, their marriage would be stronger than ever.

After discovering the secret locked in Ellie's DNA, Harry decided it was imperative that he talk to Andromeda Tonks, Nymphadora's mother. As Teddy's guardian, she was the wise choice in the matter of understanding Ellie's new changes.

Teddy, now just over six years old, was as rambunctious as his mother, and as sweet as his father. Harry's godson was quickly establishing himself as the protector of his tiny cousin, much to Harry's delight. It minimized some of his guilt when he watched the two play. Teddy didn't seem too worse for wear without his parents. Although there was a spark of sadness there in those ever changing eyes, Harry could tell the young boy was truly content and well loved.

To say the boy was delighted when he discovered his cousin's natural talent would be an understatement. Tickled that he was not be the only one who inherited the rare gift, he set about showing his cousin a trick or two he had learned. Ellie, though still small and unawares, copied his antics as best she could. It was a wondrous thing to see two sets of lime green hair instead of just one.

Of his other friends, Harry said little. Two months after Ellie's birth, a certain red headed rodent had crept by. The unannounced visit turned into an all out verbal war. The Weaslette was even sharper tongued than her older brother had been. She raged and screamed, accusing Harry of not allowing her dues as his last female relationship.

"_I waited all that time for you, Harry. To sort yourself out. I offered to give you a family, to be a mother for your children. And you bloody threw it back in my face, claiming to love that Malfoy trash," her voice screeched. Harry flinched, glad for once that Ellie was in the back expanse with Severus. The noise would certainly upset her._

"_Lower your voice please, Ginny," Harry asked softly. _

_She hissed at him. "Why should I? The whole world should hear this. Harry Potter- the great pouf. Draco Malfoy's bitch. Got up the duff by a Death Eater and had his bastard child. When he could have had a real woman." She smiled vindictively, missing the growing glow in Harry's green eyes. "That's right Harry. You could have had me. Instead you are a disgrace to men and women alike. It's disgusting."_

_Harry wrapped his arms around himself, more for her protection than his own. The idea of strangling her was so great, he was physically fighting with himself at the moment. "Ginny…"he growled._

_She ignored him, pushing on. Her voice grew in volume as her insults got progressively more painful. "You should have gotten rid of it, Harry. Something like that should never have been born. I'll bet that's why Draco left you. Wasn't it?" she sneered._

_The windows began to rattle, a fine crack appearing in the middle. Harry's hands clenched his biceps so fiercely that he could feel his nails break the skin. He knew if he let go right now, Ginny would be dead in an instant. So he continued to inflect pain upon himself in hopes of keeping his body in check. "Get out," he whispered, his voice as deadly as a vipers. _

_Ginny blinked, pausing in her tirade. "Excuse me?" she asked._

"_I said get out. If you know what is good for you, you will leave immediately. One more word and I won't be held responsible for my actions."_

_Ginny looked flabbergasted. Then she grinned, the expression ugly and twisted. "Hit a nerve, did I? Did Draco want you to take care of your little problem?"_

_Harry's resolve was breaking rapidly. He heard a wail coming from close by and realized it was Ellie. Severus came through the back French doors, holding her close to his chest, his shrewd eyes assessing the situation immediately. He held out Ellie to Harry, who took his daughter instantly. _

_Ginny, insanely jealous now, and without a single thought to her self-preservation, reached out a hand to touch Ellie. The child screamed suddenly, her wails of distress almost deafening. Harry clutched her in his embrace, rubbing circles on her tiny back. He turned his green glowing eyes to his visitor._

"_You will leave here, Ginny, and never darken my door again." A push of Harry''s wild magic tangled with Ellie's sending the temperature in the room plummeting. One of the windows shattered loudly._

_Finally catching on, Ginny shrieked, springing away. Her eyes darted between Harry with Ellie and Severus, who stood next to the younger man, his arms folded across his chest and his worst glare applied to his face._

_Without another word, she spun on her heel, her nose in the air, and began walking to the front door. Harry turned his back to her, nodding his head once to Severus before rushing out of the room and up the stairs. Severus followed Ginny calmly to the edge of the front path. Lifting his wand, he pointed it at the back of her head._

"_Obliviate," he said in a dangerously low tone. Ginny stood stock still for a few seconds, then shook her head, continuing on her way away from Harry's cottage. _

_Never let it be said that Severus didn't take care of his own._

Severus sighed, shaking his head to dispel the memories. Harry and Ellie had been too upset that night to be left alone. So when Severus left for his house that night, he had two others in tow. Harry didn't seem to mind one bit, and Ellie…she was content as long as he papa was happy.

Severus had learned a valuable lesson that day. Never to judge a book by its cover. He had always thought that Gryffindors were the more tolerant of the houses. After that incident, he could see he was grossly mistaken. Harry never asked what happened after he took Ellie upstairs, and Severus did not volunteer the information. However, there came a deeper understanding of each other from the incident, one that only served to draw them closer together.

"I know you're back there, Severus. You might as well join us," Harry called, his tone teasing. Severus shifted, pulling himself away from the tree and walking over to the blanket's occupants. Gracefully he sat down, drawing his legs to tuck underneath him. He gave Harry an appraising look.

Despite the joy he had seen, Harry looked tired still. "You're not sleeping again," he stated bluntly.

Harry ducked his head and shrugged. He couldn't out right lie to this man; he knew as much. "Nightmares again."

"What happened to your Dreamless Sleep?" Severus inquired.

"I used up the last a few days ago," Harry told him.

Severus frowned. "And you failed to order more why?"

"I wanted to try to sleep without it," Harry admitted.

Severus' mouth flopped open, clearly intent on retorting something harsh. Instead, he caught the look in Harry's eyes and nodded. "While it is recommended that the potion not be used as you have before, not sleeping is just as harmful, if not more so. Harry, just take one tonight, please."

It was a rare thing indeed to hear Severus utter the _'p' _word. But here he was, trying to coax Harry into once again surviving on the draught. Harry flushed and looked away.

"Alright," he conceded. "I'll take one tonight. But that's it. I don't want to be so dependent on them anymore."

Severus nodded. "We'll see what we can do, Harry. In the meantime, I'll take Ellie. You go take a nap," he commanded.

Harry made a show of pouting, before nodding. Raising to his feet, he leaned down and pressed a kiss on the top of the still playing Ellie. She babbled at him, waving her tiny fist again. He smiled lovingly before offering a wave to the Potions Master.

"Thank you. I won't be too long," he replied.

"Take as long as you need, Harry. Tibby will tend to our needs," Severus reassured the retreating man. Harry nodded once more before disappearing into the house.

Later that night, as the firelight flickered around the cozy living room, Harry and Severus sat in companionable silence. Each held a book in their hands, content to read in the others presence. Severus reflected on the natural feel to their continued shared silence. It was as if they did this on a regular basis. Which, Severus supposed, they did.

Glancing up from his book to his companion, he saw the green eyed young man had fallen asleep. His head tipped against the arm of the couch cushioned by his arm, the fire casting shadows on his fine features. His book lay forgotten in his lap, his fingers loosely clutching the blanket spread over his legs. His expression was one of peace, for once.

Even though Severus could see the dark circles under Harry's eyes, he was pleased that Harry was at least resting comfortably. Perhaps Harry was right, and he could wean himself off the potent potion he had depended on for so long. The Potions Master had toyed with the idea of marketing the potion he had created specifically for Harry during his pregnancy. Hermione had requested certain brews that were tailored for her needs, and Severus enjoyed toying with the mixed combinations. Creating something new, or even just improving on the old, gave the older man a sense of purpose. He had rediscovered his love for the craft because of Harry. And for that, he was eternally grateful.

He could admit, in these quiet and safe circumstances, that he would be happy to keep things the way they were, trading in his solitude for a life filled with laughter, baby spit and love. For he was sure now that he did indeed love Harry and his daughter. The past months had only served to assure him so. Denial was a thing of the past.

He smiled softly as Harry stirred slightly, the book falling to the ground with a dull thump. He understood Harry didn't share his feelings. But he was a patient man, a skill learned and honed through his craft, and his years as a spy. Anything good was worth waiting for. And if the possibility of Harry and Ellie becoming more of a permanent part of his family could become reality, he was willing to wait.

Harry sighed, his lips parting a bit. Severus glanced away.

After all, he was still a man, and while he was willing to wait, it didn't mean he wasn't tempted.

Draco had indeed been a fool to give all of this up. Severus would not be making the same mistake.

* * *

"It's snowing!" Harry gasped as the white flakes floated all around him. "Look Severus! We'll have a white Christmas after all."

Severus shook his head, watching the delicate flakes land in Harry's curls, giving him an otherworldly look. His eyes glistened, his hand outstretched to catch a few of the frozen bits in his palm.

"You doubted?" Severus questioned.

Harry turned his face towards his companion, his cheeks flushed a healthy red color. The young father looked better than he had in months. Ellie, at seven and a half months old, not only slept throughout the night, every night, but was not siphoning as much magic from Harry. As a result, her papa could sleep all night, and handle more complex spells once again. The change looked good on the dark haired man.

They were lingering in Hogsmeade, traipsing through the stores, buying up last minute gifts. With only a week 'til Christmas, the streets were busy with procrastinators. Harry, having a rare day without Ellie, had fire called Severus, begging his friend's companionship. It wasn't everyday the Savior could escape the confines of his seaside town and venture out into the vast Wizarding world. As of yet, he had been extraordinarily lucky in hiding his daughter from the prying and harsh eyes of the public. After announcing his semi-permanent retirement from Quiddich, which caused a fair amount of pandemonium, he had disappeared out of the limelight, retreating contentedly into his own little world. Between their time spent with the Ron and the now extremely pregnant Hermione, Severus, and Teddy, he was not lacking in companionship, nor was Ellie stifled, or without attention.

In fact, Harry thought his daughter might just be a bit on the spoiled side. She was doted on continuously, and gracefully was growing into a beautiful baby. Her antics, her delight, was evident and the cause for several cases of "aww's" and stitches of giggles. She was a bright little witch, already mastering her mobility, crawling all over the rooms she was allowed in. Harry was sure she would be walking in no time.

He gave a small sigh, causing his friend to give him an appraising look.

"Is something the matter?" Severus asked.

Harry shook his head slightly. "No. Just thinking of how fast Ellie is growing. You know she's been babbling more sounds lately? She'll be walking and talking before we know it. And then she'll be wanting to fly. And Hogwarts!" Harry's babbling was turning a touch panicky. Severus stopped, causing Harry to pause as well. "What? What's wrong?" he asked.

"You're worrying again," Severus said plainly.

An attractive blush bloomed across Harry's cheeks and he bit his lower lip. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Severus just shook his head. "It's natural, Harry. All parents are subject to it at sometime or another. Just try to savor the time you do have with her now, and take the rest as it comes," he advised wisely.

Harry nodded and grinned. "You know, you'd think you were a pro at this," he teased.

Severus bit back a laugh, opting to give his companion a warm smile instead. "Come, your Weasleys expect us in an hour." He gestured to Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop. "I believe you will find what you were looking for in here."

Accepting the invitation, Harry pushed open the door, listening to the magical chime ring. He tossed a look back over his shoulder. "You are coming for New Years, aren't you?"

Severus rolled his eyes, then smiled. "As if I have a choice," he remarked without malice.

Harry just chuckled and grinned.

* * *

It was indeed a white Christmas for the friends that gathered at Harry's cottage that year. It was claimed to be the storm of the century, dumping more snow than had been seen in over five decades. The landscape stretched out in sparkling white, undisturbed by human frivolity. Until Ellie, that is.

Unsure what the white stuff was, she sat in her papa's arm. Growing brave, she deftly stuck a hand out into the icy blanket coating the park bench in their back yard, drawing it back immediately with a funny look in her tiny face.

"It's cold, sweetness," her father laughed, snuggling her tighter to his chest. She reached up with a grin, patting his face in affection. She had recently discovered that patting and stroking her papa's face brought that rare smile to his face. And so, endeavored to do so as often as she could. Her downy blonde hair streaked with purple as she showed her delight.

Harry placed a kiss on the top of her head, holding her close in his warm embrace. "By this time next year, you will be out there frolicking along, and complaining about the cold." He rocked her a moment, seeing her eyes were beginning to droop. She let out a yawn, showing off her three teeth.

"I think it is time for someone to go beddy-by," he said, climbing to his feet. The home lights glowed in the windows as they made their way back to the cottage. The back door swung open, and a tall imposing figure stood in the doorway.

"I thought you might stay out there until you both froze," Severus called out sarcastically.

Harry shrugged, adjusting Ellie in his arms. She laid her tired little head on his shoulder, heaving a great sigh. "It's so peaceful out there."

Severus smirked. "You were the one who insisted that everyone come here for the hols," he reminded Harry.

"Touché" he returned. "It was nice, though, having everybody here. Draco and I always went out for New Years Eve." His tone was quiet, and still held a hint of pain. He shook his head, trying to dispel the melancholy thoughts. Now was not the time to dwell in the past. "I'll just go tuck her in, and then join me for champagne?"

Severus shut the door behind them and bobbed his head. "I'll be on the balcony." He watched as Harry walked away, his boots leaving wet puddles all over the floor. With a muttered word under his breath, Severus rolled his eyes. Harry would never be the most conscientious of people. With a wave of his hand, he banished the puddles and set about gathering the chilled drinks.

A half hour later, Harry strode into the newly designed music room, stopping in the middle to trail his fingers over the ebony and ivory keys of his grand piano. It had taken some work, but he was more than a little pleased with the results of the room. It was big, and open, lit mostly by candles at the time. The large floor length windows let in plenty of light during the day, and showed off the shining splendor of the stars at night. The hard wood floors amplified the natural acoustics of the room, creating the perfect harmony of sounds.

Huge French doors opened out onto a wrap-around porch, connecting the music room to his personal bedroom. It was the perfect setup.

Those French doors now stood open, the chilly air causing tiny snow drifts to swirl around the room. He tugged on his jumper, then pushed a hand through his hair, ruffling it even more than it already was. The hols had been splendid, filled with laughter and love. Having not only Ron and Hermione, but Teddy and Andy with them was a delight. It was with some sadness that he watched his guests leave earlier that day. They all wished to ring in the new year with their other families, and Harry hadn't the heart to dissuade them. Severus, however, chose to remain. Harry wasn't sure if it was out of pity, or something else that kept the stoic man here, but now, all alone with him, Harry found himself twitching nervously.

They had been beyond amicable during their interval together. They worked well in each others presence, sharing soft barbed banter, and even a laugh or two. The change had not gone unnoticed by their friends, the knowing looks being shot from face to face. Ron and Hermione could not remember the last time Harry had looked so well, and carefree. It was a testament, they knew, that could be attributed not only to the bright eyed babe in their midst, but to the softening Potions Master, who had eyes only for their friend.

This they would not mention, nor would they interfered. They did not begrudge their friend his happiness, even if it was with the dastardly Snape. Snape, too was showing his charm, something Ron swore was a trick of magic…or Polyjuice potion. He couldn't decide which. No matter. As long as they weren't hurling hexes, and the conversation was jovial, Ron didn't give it much thought.

Harry would never admit, as he walked out onto the balcony, joining his remaining guest, that he was happy it was just Severus now. It felt right, leaning against the banister and watching the moonlight play across the white snow below with the quiet man. He chanced a look at his profile. Again he was struck by his classic features. They looked harsh in the full day light. But here, bathed in the shining moon, he was lovely in Harry's eyes.

Severus cast Harry a sidelong look, feeling the man's gaze upon him. "Did she go down for you alright?" he asked quietly, not wanting to break the mood.

Harry nodded, holding Severus' eyes with his own. "She's out like a light. She stayed up far too long tonight."

"It's tradition. New Years Eve, you know," Severus replied.

Chuckling softly, Harry traced circling patterns on the snow cover banister. "Never too early to start, I guess." He grew quiet, pensively look out over the yard. "Thank you, Severus," he spoke sincerely.

Severus frowned, taken aback. "Whatever for?" he asked, confused.

Harry resolutely continued to look away from the tall man beside him, knowing he couldn't say what he wanted to if he was to face him. "For staying tonight. This would have been the first year I would have been alone since I was eleven. I wasn't looking forward to it."

Unsure how to respond, Severus' brow furrowed deeper. "It is nothing, Harry. I could just as easily spent it here as I could at my own home."

Shaking his head, Harry sighed. "No, it's not nothing, Severus. Everything you have done for me… and Ellie this year is not nothing. I've learned so much over the year. I've learned to see past the masks people put forth. To see what real friends are." He paused, finally looking over to Severus, whom had his eyes now glued to the dark haired angel. His eyes were luminous, glowing enticingly in the white light. "What love really means," he finished in a whisper.

Speechless, Severus blinked, his eyes wide.

"Severus, I may not know what we have between us, but I know there's something, yeah?"

His companion nodded. "Yes."

Harry nodded. "I'm not ready to go past where we are right now. But I think, some time soon, I will be." He lifted his hand, and traced his fingertips down the thin cheeks, feeling the prominent cheek bones. "Wait for me?" he asked.

Severus' heart was hammering so loudly he was sure London could hear it. His throat constricted as he tried to gulp in some air. This was a first- Severus Snape shocked into silence. His hand clutched Harry's to his cheek, the touch soft but demanding. He loved the feel of Harry's skin on his and was unwilling to let go just yet. Somewhere, the church bell tower chimed the time, heralding in the new year. As the first flashes of fireworks burst into the night sky, Harry drew Severus' head toward his, brushing his lips softly across Severus'. It was a chaste kiss, but filled with unspoken promises.

The touch of lips sent chills over Severus' spine, and he shivered slightly. Harry pulled back, his eyes bright. "I will," Severus whispered. Harry's beautiful smile was all the response he needed.

This year was one he was sure they would both remember.

* * *

I'm looking forward to the next chapter. We will be in a time skip, and see the return of our villainous blond boy. And no, Harry and Severus are not jumping into bed just yet. Hope you enjoy!


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Does anyone else get tired of saying this over and over? Nope, not mine. The OC's are... including the adorable Ellie

A/N: Sorry for the lateness. I've been ill. That aside... This chapter got away from me. It took a totally different direction than I had anticipated. However, I found it is extremely necessary. It sets up for the next few chapters. Severus' little outburst too, is important. Harry will need those reminders during the events that will begin in chapter 11. This chapter, and the following two, at least, will be rather heavy with drama and angst. Consider yourselves warned. Oh and Ellie's cuteness continues! Hope you do enjoy. And I'll get back to all your reviews now.

* * *

**Foolish Games Pt10**

_18 months later- June 2006_

"This is a load of shite!" Harry fumed, tossing a rather fancy piece of parchment onto Severus' kitchen island. He shoved his hands into this hair, ripping at his locked in an agitated fashion. Severus paused in his reading of the morning's paper to watch, halfway fascinated by Harry's rather unusual tantrum.

"Shite! Shite!" Ellie parroted from her playpen, happily crashing two toy dolls together as she chanted.

Harry groaned and walked over to the playpen, bending to pick up his daughter. At 25months old, his darling little girl was quite the handful, a sponge of curious learning. Her greatest interest currently was the mimicking of everything the adults in her life said, within reason of her two year old speaking ability. As such, Harry usually curbed his tongue around her, admonishing everyone else in her life to do so as well.

So for him to slip up like that meant something was really off. Severus raised a brow as Harry calmly tried to get his daughter to understand that curse words were not for little ladies. He bit back a laugh as she nodded, wide eyed and then repeated the word once again.

Harry shook his head, running a hand over his face before hugging the child to his chest, and placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. She giggled delightedly, and promptly changed her hair color to a rich, vibrate yellow.

They had long since discovered that Ellie changed her hair color to match her moods, an useful indicator if Severus ever saw one. Only when asked, did her white blonde Malfoy heritage shine forth. Severus thought Harry was somewhat grateful for this. Seeing his ex in his daughter daily could not be easy, Severus surmised.

Of Draco, Harry refused to speak. He had successfully kept the Slytherin Prince from intercepting any information about Ellie. Even going so far as to hide away her records. _Amazing what the title The Boy Who Lived could accomplish sometimes,_ Severus snorted bemusedly. As much as he had rankled Harry on his supposed desire of fame, he knew now that the younger man despised his many elaborate titles, and would have gladly handed them off to someone else, if he could. However, he could not, and so used his celebrity status to bargain and contrive secrecy and security for his daughter.

Quite Slytherin, really.

Unfortunately, all that hiding, while useful when she was a baby, needed to stop soon. Harry's life as a social recluse was unhealthy, even in the Potions Master's eyes. Two years and Harry had still not entered society accompanied by Ellie. After a rather costly incident earlier in the year, even his own trips into the Wizarding world had ceased. Apart from his inner circle, he rarely saw anyone else. His travel was either by floo or Apparition. Handy, yes… Safe, of course… Cowardly, no doubt about it. It was becoming frustrating to all close to him to see his constant wariness. Draco's rejection had certainly done a number on him. And Harry's encounter with Molly Weasley had only cemented his paranoia.

Why? Why did Draco effect him so? Severus still could not completely understand. Harry said Draco had never been violent with him; the only exception was during sex. And yet, the younger man seemed terrified of his ex, still. It made no sense to Severus. He doubted it even made sense to Harry, either. Perhaps what had once been for security, and Severus could not deny that Harry had needed it during his pregnancy and the months after bringing Ellie home, now had simply become a habit. Harry, so wonderfully good at convincing himself of his own guilt, could possibly believe that he was doing himself and his daughter a favor by hiding out.

Not that Severus would recommend his return to the wizarding world be broadcast, in Technicolor, no less. No, he still commanded too much of the public's attention, whether or not he wanted it. But a little jaunt into Diagon Alley for tea, or something of that nature could not be amiss. And as no one had seen, nor heard from him concretely since his departure from Quiddich, his appearance with Ellie would not arouse too much suspicion.

Severus folded the paper, setting it on the table and shook his head. Who was he kidding? Of course there would be questions, and rumors and speculations. And press…oh Merlin's balls, the press would have a lions' feast with Harry's return. He sighed. That goes without saying that Draco would obviously be informed, and, despite his lack of morals, would prove he was intelligent. Then would come the fallout from Draco's tirade leveled at Harry, Ellie, and possibly himself.

Ever the Slytherin, Severus had gotten this far with an acute sense of self preservation. Hence, feeding Harry and Ellie to the proverbial wolves would only serve to incriminate himself as well.

_Gods_. But this was a problem.

He glanced back over at Harry as the dark haired man sank back into his seat, tossing a contemptuous look at the seemingly harmless piece of parchment on the table. Lost in his inner mind's ramblings, he had failed to inquire as to the problem currently facing his companion.

A problem he would soon rectify. Harry had placed Ellie on the floor when she squirmed, smiling slightly as the little girl walked her way over to Severus, holding up her little chubby hands and demanding "UP! Sevvy! Up!" The smile grew brighter as the usually harsh man did as commanded without complaint.

Harry cleared his throat. "Did we say please, Ellie?" he corrected his daughter.

Ellie gracefully lifted her head, her little ring curls falling just so around her face. She turned her beguiling sea foam eyes to her second favorite person and murmured " 'Leasss?"

Severus settled her on his leg with a smile. "Of course, Ellie. Thank you." Her big toothy smile warmed the coils of his cold heart. But then again, she had her papa's way of worming her way into the good graces of all in her rather unconventional family. He shot Harry a look, which was returned with a wink of those green eyes.

Their life, Severus reflected as he peeled an orange and began handing the pieces to Ellie, was comfortable, if not exactly normal. Harry and his relationship was closer than ever, but still rather platonic. They had shared a few kisses, and some comforting embraces. But beyond that, Harry had not indicated that he was ready for something more, and Severus, while still sorely tempted to ravished the gorgeous man, respected his boundaries.

Again, another thing damaged by Harry's disastrous relationship with Severus' godson. Harry could not completely trust that Severus would stay with him, would not cheat on him, would not betray his trust once he grew tired of the Savior. And Severus understood that. He understood it well. Only Harry forgot that Severus had no intention of growing tired of the younger man. Seeing the roving emotions flicker through Harry's emerald eyes, the subtle play of anger roll across his face, then change to a gentle expression filled with the deepest of loves leveled at his daughter, and the hints of affection for Severus…How could anyone get tired of someone so intriguing and versatile? It would take a life time to understand Harry, maybe even more.

Severus shook his head again, his long black hair tied back out of the way of Ellie's hands. Much to her disappointment. He turned his thoughts back to the incident at hand. "Your outburst earlier: unfortunate news, I take it?"

Harry shifted his gaze from his daughter and her current resting place, to the offending item. "I can't believe those fuc…er…stupid people at the Ministry. They are working on a War museum. And have asked me to help."

Severus sat silently, sure there was more to the story. True, this was rather…uncouth, he supposed. But not enough to set Harry off.

"And can you guess who the major financial backer is?" Harry asked, his tone suddenly deadly quiet. Severus sat forward a bit, bouncing Ellie on his knee as she giggled again.

"By your reaction, it is someone you are opposed to seeing." He paused, running through a list of Harry's most despised. He was glad that he was no longer on such a list. His eyes lit up suddenly. "Draco…?"

Harry nodded his head briskly, shoving his chair back and climbing to his feet. He paced the room, fury fairly rolling off him in waves. "Yeah…Draco." He turned sharply, stationing himself behind his friend, his eyes flickering out the window to take in Severus' front yard. He sucked in several deep breaths, surprised to find his hands shaking.

"You don't have to help, you know." Severus voice was quiet, but filled with concern. He kept his gaze trained on the squealing little girl in his lap. He had learned that Harry, after the initial hormones from his pregnancy had died off, was a very private man, especially in showing his more 'sappy' emotions. And right now, he wanted to afford his companion a moment to compose himself.

Harry sighed, his voice still trembling slightly. "Of course I have to help," he spat vehemently. "I'm the Bloody Boy Who Lived. If I don't, the museum would probably flop, or something. They are depending on my endorsement of the ruddy thing. And I'll give it. I will." He took in another breath, trying to steady his body as well as his feelings.

Severus didn't know what to say. Even after all this time, he knew he was terrible at offering comfort. He could tell Harry resented the fact that the Ministry was even considering such a spectacle. Draco being involved was the icing on the top of this disastrous cake.

"I'm not…I don't….arggg!" Harry raged in exasperation.

"So eloquent," Severus smirked. Harry glared at him.

"I'm so glad you find this funny. He's not your ex."

"No, thank Merlin," Severus replied. Ellie gave a big yawn and snuggled into his arms. He glanced down at her, his features softening minutely. Her eyes blinked sleepily and her hair changed again to a deep blue. He stood, adjusting her against his hip. "I'll go lay her down," he told the still irritated Harry.

Harry nodded, leaning over to place a soft kiss on Elllie's cheek. "Sweet dreams, love," he said quietly.

"Bye, Papa," Ellie responded, sleep already creeping upon her. She would be asleep before Severus even got her into her crib.

Harry watched them go, a pang in his heart as his eyes blurred a bit. He took off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. They were failing him, he knew. More often than not, they blurred, or hurt. His headaches were becoming more frequent, the pain from them almost immobilizing him at times. He had taken to wearing his glasses more often than not, using his contacts when they went somewhere.

His eyes flicked to the invitation, and he waved his hand, pleased when the paper burst into flames. It burned brightly for a second, then dropped into ashes.

"Was that really necessary?" Severus asked, reentering the room.

Harry shrugged, banishing the remains. "Don't know, don't care," he replied, putting his glasses back on.

Severus frowned, noticing the redness around Harry's eyes. "Are they troubling you again?"

"Yeah, a bit," Harry pushed his hair back out of his face and turned his attention back to the window. Despite the summer shower, the landscape was still pretty. Granted, it wasn't his cottage, but it was rather peaceful here. He sighed. "I know I sound silly, and probably a little spoiled. But I really don't want to do this."

"Then don't. No one will force you." Severus came to stand beside the distressed man.

Harry turned his head, facing his friend. "It's not that easy," he scoffed.

"How can it not be, Harry? It is simply telling them that you will be unavailable," Severus reasoned quietly.

"Oh yes, as that'll go over swimmingly, I so sure," Harry snapped. "It's not like I'm the fucken Savior around here, or anything. Not like they don't feel it's my obligation to wax praise of their efforts. And then _him_. If I don't show, it'll show I'm scared or some such shite."

Severus rounded on Harry, his eyes flashing. "I don't understand, Harry. Whether or not you decide to help should be based on your own merits, not what Draco Malfoy, or some other idiot thinks of you. Where is you Gryffindor spirit? That unflagging courage you profess to have? Because right now, all I see is a whiny little boy, allowing another whiny little boy to rule his life."

"He's not ruling my life, hasn't been for three years now," Harry cried, his tone too loud even in his own ears.

"Then prove it!" Severus challenged. "Make a decision on this matter based on what you want to do, not what everyone expects of you. And certainly not for the man that left you broken. Show him that you're past all of the pain he put you through. And show the Ministry that you are no longer their puppet."

"It's not that easy," Harry repeated resignedly. He shifted hit attention back to the mail, plucking a letter addressed to him. Examining the name on it, he blanched, his breath coming forth in a gasp.

Severus, ready to issue a stinging retort at the stubborn man, paused when he heard Harry's stifled sounds. "What is it?" he asked.

Harry shook his head, his hand trembling uncontrollably. Severus took the envelope from him, glancing over the address printed in fine scrawl. It wasn't handwriting he recognized. Although the senders address was vaguely familiar. So was the name: _Petunia Dursely._

"Aunt Petunia…" Harry mumbled, seeing Severus confused look.

"Lily's sister?"

Harry nodded numbly. "I haven't heard from them since before I left to find all the Horcruxes. They went away, to stay safe, you know. We all sent people away. It was weird, honestly, almost like they were actually worried about me." He shook his head rapidly to dispel his thoughts.

Severus held the envelope, flipping it over in his hand. "Shall I open it?"

Harry bobbed his head. "Please," he replied softly.

Grabbing a knife from the island, he sliced open the envelope, pulling out a single sheet of paper. Quickly, he glanced over the hastily written words, a sense of unease eating at him. When he had finished, he handed the letter to his still silent companion.

Harry took it gingerly, as if the paper would suddenly come alive and bite him. His eyes scanned the contents, his face a blank mask. Severus could tell that he had shut down emotionally, already. He perused it a second time, his voice sounding hollow as he commented simply "So that's that, huh?"

Severus gave him a strange look. He could see Harry's walls come slamming back up, his feelings and reactions shut firmly away from himself and everyone else around him.

"Uncle Vernon's dead from a heart attack. I guess it makes sense," Harry said robotically. He set the letter down almost tenderly and turned away from both it and Severus. "I think…" he paused a moment, a puzzled look flashing quickly across his features. "I think I'm going for a walk. Will you be okay with Ellie?"

Severus frowned but nodded. "Yes, we will be alright. Take your coat, it's raining rather hard out there," he suggested.

Harry walked to the front door, lifting his coat off the hook and shrugged into it. His movements were slow and mechanical. "I'll be back soon," he told Severus before pulling open the door and stepping out into the warm summer downpour.

Unsure what to do now, Severus listened as the door clicked shut, then sat down heavily into the nearest stool. He ran a hand over his face tiredly. The whole day had been filled with high emotions brought on by completely unexpected events. He scowled at the innocent looking pile of mail, knowing now what kind of problems it had contained.

As the silence surrounded him, he cursed the fates that be. Harry had had a relatively peaceful life for the past few years. Now it seemed, everything was being dumped on the younger man…in spades. Harry never did things by halves, he supposed. He couldn't help but wonder what this morning event would lead to in the long run. Reaffirming his resolve to remain a pillar of strength for the dark haired beauty and his darling daughter, he began to clear off the island, awaiting Harry's return with a sense of trepidation.

* * *

Harry wandered along the quiet lane, heedless of the puddles that thoroughly soaked his trainers. The warmth in the air did little to melt the ice he felt forming around his heart. His eyes were blank, his chin squared in stubborn anger. His steps ate up the road, leading him unconsciously to a small park not too far away from Severus' house. Sinking down onto a wet bench, he ignored the water seeping into his jeans. Burying his face in his hands, he allowed the hot tears of frustration and rage spill from his tightly closed eyes. The salty liquid mingled with the rain on his face, chilling his skin.

He supposed some would think him a fool for feeling as he was. Hermione would probably admonish him that grieving was a normal process and it was okay to cry. He laughed, the sound harsh and horribly brittle. Of all the emotions currently coursing throughout his being, grief was the one noticeably absent. What did he have to grieve for anyway?

The death of his uncle was sudden, to be sure, but hardly effectual. The man had remained ever the coarse, crass and horrible whale he had grown up with, his aunt not too much better. He truly had not given them, or their circumstances much thought in the last few years. There was no need, really. They were hardly what he could consider family, and his life style smacked blaspheme in their narrowed minded existence. Ellie would be sure to rankle even the slightest kind thought. Not that he thought they had any such thing directed towards him.

He shook his head, his hand delving deep into his curls and yanking on them until he felt the tiniest pricks of pain. After all this time, now his aunt wished…no - demanded his presence at the funeral of a man he had wished dead long ago, at least in his darker moments. He gulped in large breaths of air, his lips curled horrendously in his pain. Yeah, he had those. Those dark times when he would love to see the world burn, burn with the anger and pain he felt at times. The hopelessness, the ghosts that wailed and cried out for his blood in justice of his past wrongs.

He fought it, this darker side. Oh gods did he fight it. But just now, as the sky cried with him, he fervently wished he could just walk away from it all, disappear from this world of demands and expectations. Ellie and Severus were the only things anchoring him now, he knew. And he loved them both for it. Severus' words echoed through his brain. He wanted to do just as the older man suggested, turn away from his obligations. He had paid his dues already, hadn't he? Why should he have to do anything that anyone asked of him? Everyone…Draco, his aunt, the ministry… none of them had done anything for him. Ever. Nothing good, anyways.

Heart ache, pain, distrust, mockery, abuse, betrayal…the list continued, strikes of their sins personally heaped against him. Vindictively, he wished them all to hell.

He sighed deeply, wiping the water and lingering tears from his eyes with an equally wet sleeve. He leaned back, tipping his head and letting the drops of warm rain fall directly onto his face. The sensation felt good, cleansing.

He could do this. He could. He could show up at his uncle's funeral and put those daemons to rest. He could help out on the museum project, keeping his mask of professionalism and showing his ex that he meant nothing to Harry anymore. He had defeated Voldemort, god dammit. This should be nothing.

Nothing but agonizing. Personal situations always were. And he'd much rather do exactly as Severus' suggested, tell the world to stuff it and pretend that it wouldn't eat at him. And it smacked of going against every principle he held dear. Severus had reminded him of his notable Gryffindor courage, which had carried him through far tougher times. So were was that spirit now?

He groaned, in anguish. His mind was torn in two. One half demanding he buck it up and do what had to be done. The other half, the one screaming loudest, proclaimed he shouldn't have to. Railing that he owed them nothing, that this could only lead to more pain. Questioning what he would gain from giving in. Suggesting that this path would open up more wounds than he knew.

Back and forth the two halves fought, each shooting pros and cons at him in rapidly increasing volume. His head began to beat with a hammering headache, his heart thumping a strange tattoo inside his chest. He clutched at it, his hand fisted in the wet material of his shirt. Louder the argument rose within him, until his breaths were shuddering too quickly out his cracked lips and his world was swimming in blurs of black and red.

Somewhere, his body took over, silencing the voices, and propelling him forward until his head was resting between his knees. He slammed shut his eyes as the intensity of the swelling pain ebbed and flowed. Oblivious to the rain dripping on him and the low rolling thunder in the distance, he focused all his attention on calming his trembling body into some form of submission.

How long he sat there like that, he knew not. Nor did he see the worried form of Severus Snape, holding Ellie in one arm, and an unusually large umbrella in the other, advance upon his position. So it was with a startled yelp and a subsequent fall to the squishy ground that he was drawn back to his surroundings. He cast a dark look at the man standing before him, before scrambling to his feet and looking around frantically. He had forgotten where he was, and by the looks of the wide eyed Ellie and the darkly concerned Severus, had forgotten the time as well.

Pushing his soaked hair out of his face and spelling his glasses dry, he took a few moments to put himself back together, hoping he gave off the air of one not on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Shifting his gaze to his friend, his shoulders slumped and he took the offered umbrella. Obviously, he was failing, and epically at that.

"Sorry," he mumbled contritely, stroking a finger down his daughter's soft cheek. Her hair was a deep dark black, signifying her insecurity and fear. "I'm okay," he said, trying to reassure both his companions. He smiled slightly, attempting to back up his words. The look in Severus' eyes told him the man was not fooled.

"It's not wise to remain out in such weather for an extended length of time, Harry," Severus chastised lightly, stepping closer to the now shaking man. He offered his long cloak, wrapping it around the thin shoulders. Harry allowed it, wordlessly acknowledging the gift, and knowing their conversation was far from over. However, it would not be conducted with Ellie around. Or at the very least, awake.

"How long?" he asked.

"It's just past one," Severus replied.

Harry ducked his head. He had been gone for over three hours, missing lunch, and now, interrupting not only Ellie's nap, but Severus' brewing time. Ashamed for his lack of regard and self control, he cast a quick drying charm and held out his hands to his daughter. Her worried little face broke into a beautiful smile as she immediately went to him. Severus reclaimed the umbrella, holding it over the little family as the began the trek back to the Potions Master's house. Silence flowed around them as Ellie snuggled her face into her papa's neck, her little eyes fluttering and her thumb in her mouth. Harry had tried somewhat successfully to break her of the habit. It was only under great duress that she reverted back to it. Her little chest heaved a great sigh as her other hand played with Harry's hair. Her papa was safe and sound. That was the only thing important to her, just now.

Harry smiled softly, looking down at his angel. Once again, his saving graces had appeared, his guardian angels of hope, drawing him back from that razor sharp edge he walked. He owed them his life, and one day, he hoped they would know it. Glancing back up to the taller man beside him, his face grew serious.

"I'm sorry I was gone so long," he said. "I lost track of time, I think."

"I understand, Harry. However, your daughter expressed great concern when you did not show for lunch, and any attempts to pacify her were unsuccessful," Severus replied.

"You can just say it, Severus. You were worried about me too, right?" Harry asked, with a small teasing smile.

Severus sighed slightly, relieved to see the smile on Harry's face again. Harry was all too right. He had been anxious once Ellie had awoken from her nap, and her papa had yet to come back. Considering Harry's mental state when the dark haired man had left, it was by no means a stretch of imagination to think how worked up Harry might have become. His magic, still volatile when his emotions were heighten, could cause significant damage to anyone and anything around him.

It actually took little whining or coaxing from the black headed, and teary eyed little girl before her caretaker had grabbed both their coats and an umbrella and ushered them out the door. It was also with great relief when they found Harry. Although he looked the epitome of distress and anguish, it was still a welcome sight.

"It's not amiss to assume that I felt some concern as to your well-being, Harry. You were not in the best shape when you left," he admitted. Harry gave him a bright grin, his green eyes bright once more.

"Thank you," he replied. "For coming to get me. I might have sat out here all day if you hadn't."

"Idiot boy," Severus grumbled good naturedly. They stopped in front of the door, stomping their feet to dislodge any access mud. Severus opened the heavy door, gesturing for Harry and Ellie to go in first. Harry nodded his thanks, and walked into the entryway, toeing off his trainers and shifting his now slumbering daughter in his arms.

Severus shut the door behind them, dropping the umbrella into the rack and casting another drying charm over them all. Harry allowed him to take the borrowed cloak and his coat before moving into the living room and dropping down onto the couch. Snuggling his daughter up to his chest, he placed a kiss on her head, glad to see her hair bleed from black to bright blue-green. She was content once again.

After hanging up their coats and collecting some tea, Severus settled into his favorite chair, handing Harry a steaming cup of tea. Harry took it without comment, knowing his friend would soon speak his mind. Severus' lips were pinched into a straight line, belying his emotions.

"You had another one, didn't you?" he asked without preamble.

Harry took a sip and nodded.

"How bad? Do you need a Calming Draught?" the ever vigilant Potions Master asked, his black gaze raking over the lounging man.

"Bad, but not the worst one I've had." He looked at his hands, noticing they were still shaking slightly. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to take one."

Severus nodded, summoning a vial. Harry caught it, tipping the small glass bottle to his lips. He gulped it down, his throat muscles working tightly. Already, the potion was doing as it should, calming his tremors. With a deep breath, he leaned back again. "Thanks."

"Of course. You only need ask, as you already know." Severus eyed his friend critically, searching for anything else that might need attending too. "You should be on the look out for any symptoms of a cold. You were out in the rain, without a repellent charm for several hours. And while it may be warm, it's still a possibility for you to fall ill, again."

Harry fought the urge to snap in irritation. Sometimes Severus' henpecking reminded him of Hermione. Not that he would ever suggest such a thing. He valued his neck, thank you very much. However, he knew that the older man's concerns were warranted, and so took the nagging without blowing his top. He had been stupid to let himself fall into such a situation, forgetting the basics as a wizard. And if his health suffered, it would only cause more problems for his host. Not that it wasn't an appropriate punishment for his foolishness.

He paused in reflection for a moment, noting the Severus' words were without a sting. This realization was a bit disconcerting. The man, while more congenital, still took pleasure in baiting Harry at times. Their arguments could be rather explosive by turns. And with the folly Harry had thus committed, it would not be strange for Severus to bitingly point out his transgressions. That he failed to take the opportunity presented spoke volumes of his actual level of alarm. Which in turn, made Harry feel that much more guilty.

Ellie gave a great sigh, turning her head more securely into her papa's chest, her arms going lax as she fell into a deeper sleep. Harry turned his attention to her for a moment, stroking her soft downy hair away from her face.

"You frightened her," Severus said pointedly. "She's not used to awakening and finding you gone. I think she felt your anxiety, as well. She said something about you being 'very, very sad.'"

"It's the bond, probably. It might not be like it was when she was a baby, but it's still strong. I feel her emotions too, most times. When I'm not too wrapped up in my own, yeah?" Harry shook his head, annoyed with himself. Causing his daughter pain in anyway was not something he ever wanted to do.

"Do not linger on your guilt, Harry. You had an emotional morning filled with news of the most stressful nature. Anyone would react as you did, more violently perhaps," Severus countered, reading the emotions playing across Harry's face like an open book. After such a break down, Harry was hard pressed to slip back on his unfeeling mask of marble he wore earlier. Severus knew this, and took the opening as it was thrown at him. "In fact, it is rather admirable that I did not find the park leveled, or the trees shattered. It would not have surprised me to see something like that. Especially as Ellie was not there to anchor you."

Harry laughed lightly. "I'm not so bad any more, am I?" he asked.

"No, not recently. You have done well in controlling your powers."

"Controlling…yeah, that's what I'm doing," Harry responded tritely. "So well controlled that I was bent over in a panic attack. Or maybe that the idea of disappearing seemed like the best thing in the world to do? I'm real controlled, Severus." His lips curled in a sneer.

Severus sat forward a bit, placing his now empty cup on the tea tray. "I said your powers, Harry. Your reactions and emotions are another matter entirely, even if they can be directly related to your outbursts of magic. I already said it was normal to react. That you did not follow through with your thoughts is testament to your control, is it not?"

Harry shrugged.

Sighing with frustration, Severus rested his elbows on his knees and folded his hands. "You also managed to pull yourself out of the panic attack. Your magic stayed stable, and you came home in a calm manner."

"So what?" Harry spat back, his temper rising. Ellie whimpered, and shifted again, her face pulled into a frown. Harry took a moment to cool his irritation boiling inside. He knew Severus was right. But by acknowledging it, he would have nothing to cling to in his self berating. "I don't see how that means I'm in control," he finally said, unwilling to accept the praise.

Severus found himself grinding his teeth. "Stubborn Gryffindor! Too much pride to allow for imperfections, and too demoralized to accept credit due," Severus snapped out. "You have this idea that you're the world's scapegoat, that you must feel guilt over something that isn't even worth feeling guilty for. You expect perfection from yourself, and yet, make astounding allowances for those who neither deserved, nor acknowledge such tolerances." He sat on the edge of his chair, his knees pressing into the coffee table separating them, putting him a touch intrusively into Harry's personal space. His eyes took on a look of heated determination, the dark orbs flashing with righteous anger. "You were delivered not one, but two tremendous blows this morning. Whether or not you wiling to concede them as such, the fact of the matter remains. A man that distributed abuse and neglect upon you for years! Harry…years… died. And his family, those insipid Muggles have demanded your presence to honor that man. To fall in line and play the part they have written for you time and again. They show no regard for you, or your present situation, only that you will do as they wish because it is expected of you.

And Draco." He held up his hand, seeing the fiery look in Harry's eyes, and the way his lips parted in protest. He cast a quick silencing bubble around Ellie, so as to not disturbed her slumber by their talk. "No, I will say this, Harry, and you will listen. Draco was just as bad, if not worse than your relatives. He knew what you had been through just as well as I do, if not more so, as he was there with you in the immediate days after the falling of the Dark Lord. He understood what the effects his treatment of you would have. You loved him with everything you had," he shook his head in affirmation of the fact. "Yes, you did. And he betrayed you. He betrayed your trust, and your love. He took what he could from you, and sold it to another. Many others, if rumors are to be believed. He bent you, broke you all for his own pleasure. And now, I'm sure he knew that the Ministry would contact you about the museum. He's smart, regardless of his actions. He's trying to play you. You should be furious, Harry. You should be shaking the grounds with your anger. It would be alright, expected, even. And yet, you have done no such thing. Even your initial reactions this morning demonstrate that you are indeed in control. Do not waste my time, or yours on denying it further. I am proud of you. Accept this with the grace I know you have."

Harry sat back, stunned, unable to reply. The vehemence, the passion with which Severus had delivered his commendation was astounding. He could not recall the last time the stoic man had spoken in such a way. His cheeks flared a bright pink as he saw the emotions rolling in those black eyes. Stumbling slightly to his feet, he gingerly place Ellie down on the couch, making sure she would not roll off, and hastily made his way around the table to Severus' side. Before his courage, or his rational mind could shout in protest, he had leaned over, pressing his lips hotly to the older man's, tangling his fingers into his long dark hair. Severus was surprised at first, but soon relaxed, placing a hand against the sun kissed cheek, and allowing Harry to take the kiss deeper until they were both at a loss for air. Pulling back, after a moment, he leaned his forehead against the younger man's, his eyes glued to the misty green ones. A shiver wracked Harry's body and Severus could see the very soul of his companion in his eyes. It was breathtaking.

"Thank you," was all Harry could manage. But those two words and the chaste kiss that followed were more than enough for Severus. He understood all that Harry wanted to say and couldn't.

"You are worthy, Harry. Never forget that," he said softly, caressing Harry's cheek one last time. Harry smoothed his hands through Severus' locks before stepping away, his face still glowing.

"I won't. And if I do, I'm sure you will remind me."

Severus chuckled, then stood. "In light of that, did you come to a decision regarding today's posts?"

Harry reclaimed his daughter and his spot on the couch. Ellie blinked sleepy eyes at her papa, then shut them once again. "I have with one. The other I still need to think about."

"Draco?"

"Yeah. I'm still weighting it out."

Severus nodded in understanding. "And the funeral?"

"I think I'll go. I need closure, a way to finally be done with that chapter. Maybe this will do it" Harry shrugged. He bit his lip for a moment, mulling over his next words.

"Would you like me to accompany you?" Severus asked, knowing that questioning expression on Harry's features.

Harry looked at him with surprise that melted into gratitude. "Please. I'm not sure I could face them alone."

Severus took two quick step towards him, laying his hand on Harry's shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. "Of course. When is it?"

"Sunday afternoon. I'll see if 'Mione can watch Ellie for me. I don't think it would be a good idea to take her," Harry said, shuddering. He could only imagine what his relatives would say about his daughter.

"I think that would be a wise thing to do. Subjecting her to such…ignorance is unnecessary," agreed Severus. He looked at the clock on the wall calculatingly. "I have a few potions that are needed for the shop."

Harry nodded. "Go on. We're fine here," he assured his host. The older man bowed his head slightly, and gave Harry a brief smile.

"I shall be done before dinner," he replied before sweeping out of the room, leaving the father and daughter to a much needed nap. Harry watched him go with a warmth blossoming in his chest. Somewhere during their talk and subsequent kisses, Harry had felt the thaw of his icy walls begin. He was starting the heal, finally, after all this time. And someday soon, he hoped, he would feel worthy of the love he glimpsed in those deep eyes.

With a deep sigh, he snuggled in, gathering Ellie close to him, and allowing the tangles of sleep to claim him. No matter what was to come his way in the next few weeks, he could rest assured he had one rather abrasive, and yet amazingly caring man in his corner. And that thought was enough to drive all the Dracos and idiotic relatives out of his mind. For now, anyways.

* * *

A/N2: Sorry... short little note. The colors Ellie changes her hair represent different emotions. The brighter or deeper the color, the more intense the emotion. In this chapter they are as follows:

Yellow- Happiness

Deep Blue- Calm and Tranquility

Black- Fear, Insecurity

Bluish Green- Soothed and Secure.

Key taken from http:/ . edu/ vthc/ Design/ psychology . htm (remove spaces)


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: Ellie's mine! Nah nah... Everyone else, not mine. **

**A/N:** Another chapter that got away from me. Slight warning for some blood, and some arguing. Also, I think Severus found the perfect insult against Harry in this. Five points to whom ever figures it out. The next chapter will be coming very soon. I'm just having a tough time with a few things, it's is a bit of a personal chapter to write. So for now, enjoy this one and thanks again to all the beautiful reviews and alerts. I'm overwhelmed.**  
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**Foolish Games Pt 11**

The following days after the notice of Vernon's death had been slow and quiet. Even Ellie had been somewhat subdued. Not that that was as unusual as some would think. Her emotions were still closely tied with those of her papa's. And Harry was certainly feeling a wide array of emotions. He felt as if he had climbed aboard a cursed broom again, whipping him back and forth in a wild ride of boiling agitation. He hadn't been so confused in years, since his pregnancy as a matter of fact. And he knew it would only get worse.

Finally, he could take it no longer and with the deepest of apologies to Severus, returned to his cottage with Ellie on Saturday afternoon. It wasn't ideal, he knew, and he felt more than a little guilt in leaving. Somehow, Severus understood, and said as much.

It should have relieved Harry.

It didn't.

Even with their talk two days before, Harry was tripping on the knife's edge of his feelings. One false move and he was sure he would be cleaved in half, his fears and memories spilling in rich red puddles all around him. He had not elaborated on his past with his relatives, and so Severus only knew what he had seen in their lessons during Harry's fifth year. Those, Severus now felt, were almost like stolen little bits of Harry's soul, not willing given, and not well dealt with. He had been no less than horrid, harsh and cruel to the young boy at that time, reveling in his supposed weakness, laughing at his faults that were brought into sharp relief against a background of past injuries and hate for the man he saw in his student.

He had used such memories as a way to humiliate Harry, casting his problems away as something trite and usual when it had been so far from that. He had been so petty, so ecstatic when presented with what he saw as proof of the boy's arrogance and willful need to break every rule set before him. It was shameful behavior, he knew that now. He, of all people, understood the horrors Harry had to endure. He, more than anyone, could have sympathized with the Gryffindor's need to escape the realities he had to face.

He had not, and now, with the funeral only 24 hours away, he was surrounded with feelings of trepidation and guilt. It occurred to him that the events of the Harry's past were about to crash resoundingly with his present. The spectacular show that was sure to result no longer brought him joy, but rather a sense of anger and protectiveness. No matter what the morrow brought, he would stand beside his little Gryffindor, a rock of shelter and a wave of peacefulness.

And so, it did not hurt when Harry left instead of staying the entire weekend. He understood that the younger man needed some time to come to terms with his own emotions, to prepare himself for what he would be facing the following afternoon. Gone was the reckless boy of Hogwarts. In his stead was a fiery man who had yet to deal with the skeletons in his closet. And without the grounding force of Ellie tomorrow, Harry would have to work extra hard in controlling his emotions.

Still, the silence surrounding the living room after the floo had died down was pressing. Then again, Severus felt like that most times after his little 'family' had returned home. As silly, sentimental and Gryffindor as it sounded, he hoped that there would come a time when he didn't have to watch them go.

Funny how love changes a person.

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_Time has a funny way of passing when you don't want it to,_ Harry reflected as he sank into his chair. Ellie, down for her afternoon nap, had whined a little when he had told her they were going back to the cottage. She loved Severus' home just as much as she did her own. Harry in turn, had to admit he too was rather sad to go. But, it was unfair to put Severus through his rapidly changing mood swings. Oh, he was sure the older man would have put up with him. He showed a strange patience not seen in their earlier dealings. It was refreshing, if not a bit hard to get used to.

Tonight, however, Harry didn't want to have that patience directed at him. He was restless, bordering on recklessness, and knew Severus, with the best of intentions, would try to calm him down. And that was something Harry didn't want to feel. He wanted to let the feelings of hatred and anger roll over him, to bathe in the burning desire for returned humiliation. Not that he would do anything tomorrow that could be considered such. He was an adult now and would not sink to such childish reactions. At least not in public. However, in the privacy of his own home, with his daughter safely enclosed in her room, and protective wards set up around the upper half of the house, he did the one thing he hadn't done in years.

He lost control.

Complete and full control over his magic. The wind picked up inside his living room, the windows rattling with the force of a small tornado. Swirling around him, the stiff wind lifted everything off the fireplace mantle, the smaller knick-knacks falling to the ground, smashing spectacularly. Cracks and flashes of lighting erupted around him, striking the walls and singeing the carpet. Furniture, thought to be sturdy, was hurled against walls like boxes of matchsticks, splintering wood and tearing fabric into messy shreds. Pillows he once took pleasure in procuring fell to the floor, their fuzzy innards spilling in a gruesome display from a slasher flick. The noise had picked up to a howling roar. In amidst the chaos, Harry sat, his eyes closed, arms braced and his fists clenched tightly into his thighs. He said not a word, letting the wind and the glass shattering scream away his pain and anger.

Tibby, as smart as she was, knew to stay away. However, when the very foundations of the cottage began to rock, she popped in the room, dodging the flying debris with a shriek. The noise blended in with the rest, lost in the horrible melody of Harry's magical storm. The wild tendrils of magic reached out, striking at the intruder, causing her to land with a wail in her master's lap. Stunned, Harry leaped to his feet, dumping the creature onto the ground, with a yell. His eyes, as wild as the storm around him, rapidly moved over the room, finally alighting on the small elf at his feet. Shocked, he quickly held out a hand, his magic calming in stages, until all that was left was a gentle breeze, and one decimated living room.

"Sorry, Tibby," he mumbled contritely, helping her gain her feet with a sheepish look on his face. He rubbed the back of his neck as she stomped her little feet in irritation, her eyes wide and her ears swiveling.

"Master Harry not supposed to make storms. Master Harry must control his magic," she scolded.

Harry nodded, taking in the entirely of the room. Not a single piece of furniture, with the exception of the chair he had been sitting in, was left in a recognizable form, reduced simply to shreds and splinters of wood. Glass had exploded from the windows, coating every thing. A string of pictures littered the rug, or hung precariously on the walls. In addition, the mantle had been swept clean of all ornaments.

"Fuck," he groaned, burying his head into his shaking hands. He winced as pain bloomed from his side. Looking down, he saw a large shard of glass had embedded itself into his side, wedging in-between his ribs. It wasn't deep enough to pierce his lungs, he assumed, but still something he would need to have checked. The slippery trail of blood flowed from a slice across his cheek, staining the top of his shirt. His arms too bore multiple knicks and scratches. He grimaced in disgust.

"I know, Tibby, and I'm sorry. Is Ellie okay? Did I wake her?" he asked shamefaced, a hint of panic in his tone.

Tibby tutted and shook her head. Her eyes were glued to the growing bloodstain on his side. "No. Mistress Ellie is being sleeping fine. She not hears your storm."

Harry sighed in relief, then bit his lip was the pain grew. "Good. I think I'd better firecall Severus. I can't have this happen tomorrow."

Tibby nodded, her ears flopping. "Master Severus could bind your magic," she suggested.

Frowning deeply, Harry looked at his elf. "Bind my magic? Wouldn't that mean I couldn't use it?" He felt uncomfortable with the idea of his being defenseless.

"No. Master Severus binds Master Harry's magic for the day. Then gives it back later." She swept a hand over the room. "No storm, no mess tomorrow," she concluded.

"A day bind?" Harry questioned. He had never heard of such a thing. "I thought magic binding is permanent."

Tibby shook her head. "Only if it is the wish of the caster and the wizard being bound. Many types of bind for many things. Many ways too."

Shaking his head as dizziness began to push against his senses; he waved his hand to Tibby. "Thanks, Tibby. Could you hand me the floo powder from the kitchen?" he requested as he sat down heavily in his remaining chair. He grimaced; thinking of what Severus would say when he saw the condition of Harry's house. "I'm so controlled," he muttered in derision. "Right."

Jar in hand, Tibby popped back into the room, handing her burden to Harry. Harry nodded his thanks, and then threw a handful into the fire. He watched as the flames turned green, waiting for his friend to answer. Moments later, the frowning man's face appeared, a brow raised in question.

"Harry?" he questioned. "Did you need something?"

"Do you have a moment?" Harry asked a bit breathlessly, struggling against the sharp slice of pain still pricking his side.

Severus' eyes narrowed as he saw the crimson streak highlighting Harry's pale face. Even in the green flames, his friend looked distressed and paler than normal. "What happened?" he asked, a bit of worry in his tone.

Harry held up his hand, trying to show the older man that he was fine. "Nothing to worry about, right now. I just need to ask you to do something for me."

Suspicious, Severus leaned forward, attempting to see more. "I'm not incapacitated at the moment. I'll come through," he said tersely, knowing something was off about the younger man. Harry shifted his eyes away, and bit his bottom lip, before nodding.

"Alright," he agreed, wondering why he had asked him again. There was a sizzle and a pop, and then Severus stood in the room, brushing his robes off with his hands, before turning his attention to the man sitting in a chair. His eyes widened in shock as he witnessed the quickening breathing of his friend and the darkening red spreading across his side.

He dropped to his knees quickly, swatting Harry's hands away and lifting the younger man's shirt. He frowned as he took in the large gash and protruding glass shard sticking out from the gold kissed skin. "What happened?" he growled out, lifting his blacker than black eyes to the hazed green ones.

Harry shook his head, then groaned. "It's nothing. A scratch," he mumbled. "A bloody painful scratch, but nothing to worry about."

"Nothing to worry about?" Severus exclaimed loudly. He stood rapidly, stumbling as he finally saw the rest of the room. "Harry, what the hell happened here?" he cried, in a rare show of anxiety. The room, to his eyes, looked as if a pack of Death Eaters had come through. "Who did this?"

Harry said nothing, a small groan coming from his lips. Drawing Severus' attention back to the injured man, he caught the look of shame in Harry's face.

"Harry," he grounded out warningly. "Who did this?"

"I did," Harry murmured.

"You?" Severus repeated dumbly.

"Yeah."

"You destroyed your house?"

"No, just the living room," Harry responded with a gasp.

Severus quickly snapped out of his shock, remembering the bleeding gash on Harry side, and the cut littering the rest of his upper body. "Stay there, I'll be right back," he commanded quietly. His voice edged with worry and barely constrained anger, sounded razor sharp. Harry's head lolled to the side in a half nod. There was a whoosh of green flame and then quiet descended on the room, save for Harry's labored breathing and Tibby's anxious twittering. She fluttered about the room, trying to set things to right again.

The tension that filled the air became almost suffocating as soon as Severus arrived back in the demolished room. His face set and pale, he knelt next to Harry again, hissing as he examined the wound. "Of all the imbecilic things, Potter. This one does beat all." He removed several vials from his pockets, setting them on a transfigured table next to him. "I need to remove your shirt," he growled, helping the younger man sit forward.

Harry moved sluggishly, biting his lip as he felt the fabric lifted off him.

"What possessed you to do something so completely asinine?" Severus snarled out, his teeth clenched as the wound began to seep blood again. He quickly pressed a flannel against the wound, and handed a vial of pain potion to Harry. Harry took it without comment, his eyelids fluttering with pain. He did not even make a face at the terrible taste filling his mouth, choosing to look away from the hard eyes of the Potions Master.

"Harry…"

"I lost control," Harry's words snaked out from his tightly pressed lips, his eyes slamming shut as Severus prodded the skin. "Damn it Snape, just pull the damn thing out."

"I can't, you bloody fool," Severus countered. "I'm not sure how deep it is."

"It's not that deep. Not enough to hit a lung or something."

Severus shook his head. "There are more things that can be damaged than a lung. Hold still." He waved his wand quickly, and shook his head again as the results. "You're a lucky fool, Harry. You managed to miss anything vital."

"That's good," Harry breathed out, the pain a fire burning in his body. The pain potion had dulled it somewhat, but the heat was still there. He winced again as Severus moved his hands over his skin.

"I'll remove the glass and stitch you up. And then you will explain to me just what occurred here," Severus said, his tone brooking no argument. Too tired to fight, Harry simply nodded. Gritting his teeth, he grabbed a hold of the chair's arm, his fingers biting into the wood and fabric, his knuckles white. It had been years since he had done something so stupid, and as a result, ended up in this amount of pain.

Slamming his eyes shut, he tensed, trying his hardest not to thrash when he felt the slide of the glass exit his body. Warm fingers gently smoothed some salve over the torn edges of his skin, and a mumbled spell had the wound knitting back together. Cool bandages covered the area and gauze was wrapped around, just to ensure the completion of the healing process. Spells worked wonders most of the time, but it was always best to take precautions. Gasping at the tingling feeling radiating from the injured site he took a few shallow breaths, waiting for his heart to settle down before opening his eyes again.

Severus still sat beside him, his face drawn. He handed Harry another vial. "Blood Replenishing," he told him. Harry nodded and downed the potion. "You may have not lost a fatal amount of blood, but it was a sufficient quantity. Where's Ellie?" Severus asked, realizing quite suddenly that the little one was not in the room, thankfully.

"Napping upstairs." Harry sighed and tipped his head back. His eyes focused on the ceiling, now sporting deep cracks. He frowned. That would be a bit harder to fix.

"Care to explain to me what exactly took place here?" Severus' hard voice broke through his examinations. Harry kept his eyes above him, resting one hand on his thigh, the other wrapped around his still naked middle.

"I told you, I lost control. I made sure the rest of the house was warded. So no harm done, really. Everything is repairable after all," he said, the shrug apparent in his voice. A few repairing spells and everything would be back to normal, he knew.

This however did little to pacify the now streaming older man. His eyes flashed as a glare crossed his face. Flicking his gaze around the room once again, he took note of each and every bit of damage. It was almost unbelievable that the house still stood.

"You lost control," Severus repeated in a deadly whisper.

Harry huffed. "Yeah. I was angry and tired and I lost it. Sometimes, you just lose it. Everybody does."

Severus stared at him blankly. "Everyone, yes. You are not everyone, or need I remind you? You are different from the typical Malfoy or Weasley, are you not? You have an astonishing amount of wild magic. Power that must be tightly leashed at all times. Unlike those idiots, you cannot afford just to lose all control. Do you have even an inkling of what you have done? Could have done? Are you really that stupid?" He held up his hand, cutting off Harry's response. "No, don't answer that. The proof is all too obvious. I thought that maybe, _maybe_ you had finally outgrown this recklessness of yours, the blatant disregard you have shown for your life. I can see now that I gave you far too much credit. "

Harry's eyes were green molten lava, pouring out his irritation at being spoken to thus. "So we're back to that, are we? I'm an arrogant child again. Next I suppose you'll be telling me how much I'm acting like my father!" Harry shouted, springing to his feet. The pain shot through him briefly, and he wrapped both of his arms around his bare torso.

"No, because unlike you Potter, your father at least had the decency to think of his child first. For once, you have surpassed James Potter in irresponsibility. Did you even consider what might have happened had the wards not held, if your tantrum had reached Ellie?" Severus spat back.

Harry flinched violently. He hadn't really taken that all into consideration, taking for granted that his spell work would hold, and focusing on his own selfish need to lash out. Had anything happened to Ellie…His face crumbled into an expression of desperation, his energy sapped. With unsteady legs, he fell back into his seat. Severus had stood, packing away his supplies and moving towards the Floo. The silence descending was heavy, the air crackling with tension.

"Help me, please," Harry whispered, pleading.

Severus stopped in his tracks, his face a frozen mask of anger. Frustration burned beneath his skin. He was almost tempted to wash his hands of the matter, leaving the broken man to fix his mistakes. Nevertheless, as he had found happening more often than not over the past few years, he could not ignore the summons Harry inflicted upon his heart.

Turning back around, he rubbed a hand tiredly over his face. "I'm not sure I can, Harry," he said truthfully. "I understand fully that you are under an intense amount of emotional stress. But this," he gestured to the destroyed room, "was not only reckless, but extremely dangerous. You were injured, and had that glass been farther in, we would be dealing with a whole other matter. Losing control like this, especially knowing what damage your magic can do if let run wild, is negligent." He watched as the emotions flickered across Harry's pale and drawn face. There was such a deep look of hopelessness in his eyes that Severus had to turn away. "Do you realize what happened here? What could happen if you allow yourself to fall like this again? Can you bear the guilt of harming another person because your emotions broke the bonds of your magic?"

Harry shook his head, hanging it down low and fisting his hands until the bones stood out under taunt white skin. "No. No, Severus," he replied, the full weight of what he had done crashing down around him. He heard the laughter of his daughter pour down the stairs. Ellie was up, and he knew Tibby would keep her occupied for a few moments longer. The sound was like salt on his wounds.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, burying his face in his hands. Silent sobs wracked his frame.

The sight softened Severus' stern features and he made his way back over to the silent anguished young man. Placing a hand on his shaking shoulder, he knelt before him, using his other hand to guide Harry's face towards his. His lips pressed softly into the silky unruly hair, his hand coaxingly stroking over the healing cheek, wiping away the lingering tears. "I don't want to lose you, Harry," he confessed quietly. "And I could have. You were fortunate beyond compare today. You might not be the next time. What would Ellie do without you?" he paused, his voice cracking. "What would I do?"

Harry pressed his face into the scarred crook of Severus' neck, his breaths coming in slightly erratic puffs. He placed his hand over Severus' and held on tight. "I'm sorry," he repeated, the words mumbled wetly against Severus' flesh.

"I know you are," Severus conceded, holding back a shiver. "And I apologize as well. I should have made sure you had your emotions under control before I allowed you to leave. That part is my burden to bear."

Ellie's squeals and shouted words interrupted for a moment. Harry smiled softly, pressing his lips against the scars. Severus' breath hitched, pulling Harry's head around for a kiss. They took their time, focusing on drawing comfort from each other's lips, forgetting their surroundings. Severus' long fingers tangled in Harry's hair, tilting his head and deepening the kiss. His tongue trace the seam of Harry's lips, requesting entrance. Harry's eyes fluttered closed, granting it and lost himself in the silent declarations Severus was making with his lips and tongue.

A rather loud pop brought them both back down to earth, the loss felt acutely by both. They pulled apart, although Severus remained by Harry's side. Harry looked up at Tibby who stood anxiously with his daughter. Ellie's smile reflected her almost neon yellow hair and she held out her arms to her papa. Harry, with a brief regretful look, stood, untangling his hand from Severus'. He calmly took Ellie into his arms, cuddling her tightly against his chest. All lingering chaotic feelings died instantly. He closed his eyes, breathing in her sweet baby scent from her curls with contentment.

Ellie giggled and squirmed, causing Harry to open his eyes again. His emeralds focused on Severus, and for once, the older man basked in the deep look of Harry's loving affection. It was a look usually reserved for Ellie; so bearing the full brunt of his gorgeous expression was breath taking, literally. Severus took a few moments, his breath caught as he acknowledged and accepted what Harry was offering silently. They shared a moment of complete agreement before Harry turned away.

"I need to clean up in here, Tibby. Could you get a light snack for Ellie?" he asked.

The house elf nodded, reclaiming the small child with an air of importance. It was rather adorable in an odd way. Harry watched them leave before facing Severus again. "Thank you," he said quietly, already beginning the repairs to the room.

Severus moved his wand around, the furniture pulling their pieces back together again. "I'm always here, Harry. I would think you would know that by now."

"I do," Harry replied. "I just need reminders once in a while, I guess."

They worked in silence for a few minutes, observing somewhat interestedly as the room began to take on its original semblance. "You requested my presence here for a reason, I believe. And I assume it was not to patch you up, nor your house," Severus finally said.

Harry paused in his work, casting a look over his shoulder to his partner. "I want you to bind my magic."

Severus stumbled slightly, his face open with surprise. "Bind your magic?" It occurred to him that he had been answering a fair few of Harry's statements with less than his usual eloquence. "You cannot be seriously contemplating this, Harry."

"I am. It would only be for a day. Tomorrow to be specific. I don't want what happened today to happen at the funeral. You're right, you know. I might have hurt someone, and still could," Harry explained.

"You did, idiot," Severus growled out, although his words were without sting. "Or have you already forgotten the shard of glass I pulled from your body an hour ago?"

Harry shook his head. "You know what I meant. Tibby said there was a way to bind me for a day. She said you could do it."

Severus moved the last repaired picture onto the wall. "I can. I know of a potion that will, while not completely restricting all your magic, put a damper on it and adjust it to a very low level. It is not recommended, for obvious reasons. You would be rendered almost completely vulnerable to magical attacks."

"I figured as much," Harry said, with a shrug. "But we will be with Muggles tomorrow. I'm not too worried about some Neo-Death Eater, or whatever, attacking me there." He cracked a small grin. "Besides, I'll have you with me. What better protection could I ask for?"

"Brat," Severus said with affection. "Alright. I will brew the potion. It will be done by tomorrow morning."

Harry pocketed his wand, glancing around the room with a satisfied nod. Striding over to the taller man, he stood before him, a shy smile on his face. "Thank you, again," he spoke softly, pulling the man down to him, his lips locking on Severus' again. The kiss was short, but sweet, and full of promise. Severus wrapped his arms around the younger man, pulling him to his chest in an unusual protective hug. Still a snide and sometimes cold man, his body and heart had no choice but to warm and melt when Harry did things like this. So he gave into his want, accepting the embrace and closing his eyes in a rare show of contentment.

They stood like that for a few moments, each enjoying the peace they felt with the other. With a deep sigh, Severus pulled back, dropping his arms. "If I am to begin the potion, I will need to return home." He gazed down at Harry. "Can I be assured of your well-being for the remainder of the night?"

Harry stepped back, nodding. "I'll be good," he promised. "I'll just get some dinner, and probably put Ellie and I to bed." He gave Severus a reassuring smile. "Don't worry."

Severus picked up a handful of floo powder. "I do, brat. You give me plenty of reasons to do so," he countered, his face serious, but his eyes lit with a teasing look. "I'll return in the morning. Please refrain from conjuring any more storms tonight. I don't relish the idea of digging you out before the funeral."

Harry's laughter sounded, following his through the Floo. On the other side, Severus indulged in a smile, relieved that Harry would be okay.

The rest of the evening settled into a peaceful order for Harry and Ellie. Dinner was simple and light, Harry's appetite having taken leave earlier. Although his magic was dulled to a slight roar now, his stomach felt the queasiness associated with blooming stress. He nodded his thanks to Tibby when she placed a salad before him, her ears drooping slightly.

"Alright there, Tibby?" he asked curiously, cutting Ellie's chicken into small pieces. She delightedly waved around her sippy cup in an effort to make its contents take flight. Patiently, Harry took it from her, much to her chagrin. She poked out a pouty lip and gave her papa puppy dog eyes. Harry laughed and ruffled her curls affectionately, and earned a smile.

"Master Severus will bind Master Harry tomorrow?" Tibby asked, picking up Ellie's banished fork.

Harry frowned then nodded. "Yes. He said there was a potion he could make that would allow me to bind my magic for the day. He'll give it to me before we leave tomorrow."

"'Eeeeveee…" Ellie screeched out with a giggle. Her hair turned a flaming orange.

"Yeah, Ellie. Leave. Blast!" Harry exclaimed. "I forgot to call Hermione."

"Miknee," Ellie burbled. She tossed her cup to the floor, and then laughed again as it returned immediately to the tray. Thus began a new game, much to the dismay of Tibby, who fluttered and sputtered about.

"Ellie, stop," Harry commanded, his tone firm. Ellie did so immediately. "Thank you," he acknowledged with a smile and kiss.

"Mistress Weasley has not called today," Tibby informed him, not understanding his worry.

Harry shook his head and stood. "No, she wasn't supposed to. I was going to see if she could watch Ellie tomorrow for me." He paused a moment, weighing his options. While Hermione was his usual babysitter, on the very rare occasion that Harry required one, she might not be the best choice in light of his current situation. He waved his hand as if to clear the air around him. "Think I'll call up Andy instead. Less drama," he mumbled, giving his daughter a fond pat before trudging over to the fireplace in the adjacent room.

"Andromeda Tonks," he called out. The flames flared green and his godson grandmother's face popped into sight.

"Harry, goodness. It has been a while. When are you coming to dinner, Hun?" she asked with affection.

Harry's lips stretched into a big grin. "Tomorrow night, if you'll let me," he replied.

"That would be just fine." She then gave him an appraising look. "You look haggard, dear."

"I've been, well busy. And having a rough time of it." He found himself confessing to Andy without provocation more often than not. She had a quality about her that made him think of Molly Weasley, without the rather overbearing attitude.

She nodded. "You need a break, Harry," she said. "I could take Ellie for the day tomorrow."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Truly, this woman was a gem. "Could you? I was calling to ask if you would. I have some family business to take care of, and it would be best if she wasn't there."

Andy's eyes turned shrewd. "Family, as in those people some call relatives?" she asked, a hard tone in her voice.

"Yeah. My uncle died and my aunt er…_requested_ that I be there," he revealed.

Clicking her tongue, Andy scowled. "Awful people." Then she looked at him with concern. "Surely you aren't going on you own?"

From just about anyone else, that statement would have offended Harry. But with Andy, he knew she was simply worried about his emotional state, and not his inability to deal with a pack of heinous Muggles on his own. So he simply offered her a soft sigh and a smile. "Severus is going with me. And we are doing a day-bind to my magic for tomorrow."

She seemed to relax at that, he face finally allowing a smile to form. "Good. He's good for you, you know."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I know. He's probably more than I will ever deserve. I'm not sure why he bothers, really. I'm even more surprised at how little he shows his temperamental attitude any more."

Shaking her head with a knowing look, Andy huffed. "You really can't see it?" she asked.

Harry flushed and looked away. Andy understood and said nothing more about it. Let those two come to an understanding in their own time. She knew it would happen soon. And when it did, she hoped that the fates would finally allow them peace.

"I'll come by around ten tomorrow morning," Harry said, breaking their brief silence.

"That sounds just fine. Teddy will be glad to see you both. He's sorely missed you as of late," Andy chastised.

"I miss the little runt too. Tell him goodnight for me, would you?" he requested.

"Of course. Take care, Harry. And get some sleep. You look like you need it."

"I won't argue with you there," Harry said with a wave. The connection closed. Harry sat there a few moments longer, watching as the flames died down to a small flicker. He didn't want to think about the events the next day would bring. The whole thing brought bitterness into his mouth and a burn in his gut. Shoving his magic back down, he stood, ready to finish Ellie's bedtime ministrations before hopefully falling into bed and getting some much needed rest.

Sleep's twice-damned mistress however, had other ideas. She seemed determined to flirt with the sharp edges of Harry's consciousness. Pulling in for a quick kiss, then flippantly disappearing, only to tease once again with flashes of leg, and longing sighs. Harry, groaning harshly, punched at his pillow for the fourth time in a row, flopping back against it in exasperation. He was utterly exhausted, drained beyond all measure and still could not find the lasting relief of sleep he so desperately sought.

It was maddening. Hazy half-remembered memories of his childhood floated through his mind, calling out to him, begging that their pain and anger be released. He knew it was a simple trick of his muddled mind, and his violent wild magic. It preferred to be lashing out, wailing when it was caged as Harry had done so presently. A repeat of the night's earlier events was not something Harry wanted to see. So he clutched that blacken leash and held tight as Severus had told him to do. The wild magic snapped and burned raging fire inside his body and mind, but he held fast.

However, while the internal struggle he fought served to tire him physically, it did not give him leave to drift away into sleep. With a cry of irritation, Harry stomped into his bathroom and rifled around in his cabinet. Finally, a single cool vial of wistful liquid touched his fingers and he clutched at it like a drowning man. He quickly popped the top and downed vile potion, feeling the sleepiness take over almost immediately. He hadn't taken the Dreamless Sleep potion for over a year now. And he was loathed to take it now, considering his earlier dependence on the stuff. But desperate times…

He sighed heavily as he sank down into his bed, glorious oblivion soon following. His sleep, while dreamless, was restless still. So it followed that when the morning dawned, Harry felt annoyed and drained of any gracious emotion. He was ever grateful that Ellie would not be subjected to him and his mood today. He was sure it would not improve over the course of the day.

Enduring a shower that was hotter than it should be, and a self-depreciating look in the mirror, he hurriedly dressed in a worn trousers and a pull over. Experience dictated that he not dress nicely until after the morning meal with Ellie. While a gracious and somewhat graceful child, she was still just a toddler, and apt to throw her food when the mood struck her. Which it did, often. Shield spells and bubbles helped contain her mess, but Harry, in the vain attempt at calming his storm of a daughter, was trying to train her to behave, and had since banned the use of shields.

Much to the lament of his rather nice white shirt and favorite pair of jeans. There were some things even a _scourgify_ spell could not remove, apparently.

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his tousled and still dripping hair. He plucked up his glasses, settling them on his face and snarled at his reflection. He was glad, not for the first time, that he had a simple Muggle mirror, not one of those charmed atrocities that spouted annoying statements. Draco had required one when they were together, no doubt to boost his already overtly inflated ego. Harry hated the damn thing, its insults just as barbed about his appearance as it had been complementary about Draco's.

With another growl and a shake of his head, Harry banished such reminiscing, shutting the bathroom door with more force than necessary. The sweet squeals of Ellie and the deep baritone of Severus told him his household was already in the process of moving forwards with the day. Harry wanted to crawl back into bed and pretend the day was over.

Shoving such gloomy thoughts into the back of his mind, he walked down the stairs, pausing just outside the kitchen. Propping his hip against the entryway, he shoved his hands in his pockets, and watched the scene before him silently. Severus sat on a bar stool, Ellie's high chair pulled up close to his seat and the island. He was feeding her bits of eggs and toast while she waved around her cup again. Her movements reminded Harry of a cartoon he had seen a tiny bit of when he was younger. She appeared to be conducting an orchestra with outlandish arm sweeps.

Severus, Harry observed, weaved his arm around hers, planting her food into her giggling mouth with an air of patience, Harry would not think the stoic man had in him. He was vastly different from the repressed and harsh Professor of Harry's school years. At least in this kind of familiar atmosphere. Out amongst the masses, Snape was still Snape.

However, here…

Harry shook his head. Here it was utopia. Unreal in most eyes, but still a brilliant reality to them. And he loved it, every minute of it. A calming sense of peace stole over him, soothing the raw edges of his frazzled nerves. He could do this. He could make it through the day, do what he had to do and move on. Finally.

"Desist, you giggling fiend," Severus snapped, although his voice was filled with warning fondness. Ellie had managed to swipe Severus large hooked nose with her little fork on its way to the floor. He grabbed at her cup that was trying to follow.

Harry chuckled, stepping into the room. "Ellie, darling. Sev doesn't need to be included in your rendition of 'Twinkle, Twinkle."

Ellie waved her arms at her papa. "Up, 'lease," she begged, her smile aglow with grape jelly. Harry washed her face gently before lifting her into his arms. He snuggled her close, peeking through her now snow white and blue streaked hair at Severus. The older man was calmly cleaning his hands with a slight smirk. As irritated as he would like to appear, Harry knew he was somewhat amused by Ellie's breakfast antics. He caught Severus' dark eyes. The older man frowned, taking in his counterparts appearance. Harry shook his head in silent answer to his silent question. The frown deepened briefly before Severus nodded. Harry knew he was unhappy with how Harry looked, but could not do anything about it at present.

"Nice of you to join us, Mr. Potter," he said in a smug tone, reminiscent of other, not so fond days.

Harry gave him a smart-arsed look and sat down on the stool next to him. Tibby placed a plate in front of him and Harry juggled Ellie to his lap as he took a bite. "What? No points taken? No detention?" Harry shot back, his eyes dancing.

Severus chuckled, shaking his head."Today will be punishment enough," he replied, breaching the topic bluntly.

Even though he was used to Severus' snarkiness, the subject of their event later that day was not something he readily wanted to discuss. Severus, however, wouldn't allow Harry to put it off.

Glaring, Harry tried not to wince. "For me or you?" he asked, still trying to keep things light. Severus simply shrugged, giving Harry a knowing look. Harry flushed under the appraising look. "I'll be okay," he assured the quiet man.

Severus raised a brow to show his doubt. "That remains to be seen," was his reply. "The potion is finished. You should take it after you are done with your meal. It's best to take it on a full stomach." Harry nodded. Severus cupped his hands around his coffee mug, lacing his stained fingers together. "Have you called Hermione?"

"No. I asked Andy instead," Harry told him. Severus gave him a look, and he squirmed around a bit. "Less drama. I didn't want some speech from Hermione about controlling my temper, or how this might be a good way to patch things up. If anything, it is only an obligation."

"Indeed," was Severus' reply.

Harry tensed. He hated it when Severus adopted that word and tone. "I'm not hiding," he snapped.

"I do not recall saying you were. I was merely wondering if that was all you wished to accomplish today," the older man said evenly.

"What else would I want?" Harry snorted. "I certainly don't have expectations of reconciling with them, or something stupid like that."

"Then what expectations do you have?"

"To be treated as they always have, with hate, fear and derision. What else?"

"Might you see this as a chance to prove them wrong? Perhaps, a way to move on?" Severus countered wisely.

Harry blushed, thinking of his earlier thoughts. Had he not decided the same thing? He bobbed his head, his hair falling into his eyes. A warm hand settled on his neck, massaging it softly. Ellie, curious at the conversation between the two adults, sat still for once. Her eyes were wide with a look of innocence that pained Harry's heart. Had his eyes ever looked like that? He shoved away his plate and wrapped his arms around her small body.

"Yeah, maybe. But Hermione would want me to forgive them, probably. And I'm not ready to do that, maybe never will."

Severus, maintaining his light touches on the back of Harry's neck, nodded. "I would be a much lesser man if I spouted off hypocritical dribble about forgiving and forgetting. They dealt you a great deal of wrongs; you have a right to withhold your good graces. Just as long as that path doesn't affect your soul in the long run."

Harry grimaced, then stood. Placing Ellie on the floor, he rolled his shoulders and winced. "Merlin. Severus, I could use a bit more of those magic fingers," he joked, then paused as the Potions Master's cheeks tinged lightly with pink. Severus made a show of straightening his shirt and brushing off his pants, all the while allowing his black curtain of hair to hide his face.

It was adorable, if not a bit odd. Harry simply shrugged silently, not wishing to antagonize the man. "I'm going to go change, and then you can give me that potion before we drop Ellie off at Andy and Teddy's." Not waiting for an answer, he went back up to his room, intent on analyzing Severus' reaction at a later time. For now, he had to mentality prepare himself for the hell he was willing walking back into.

He must be bloody mental.

* * *

A/N: Next up... the funeral, and further confrontations with family, Dumbledor and the past. And perhaps more bonding between our two?

Ellie's hair colors:

Bright neon yellow: Extreme joy

Orange: Demanding attention

Snow white and blue streaked: peaceful calmness

Till next time! Enjoy!


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Even after all this time...still not mine. If it was, DH 2 would have come out the week after DH1 :). Ellie is, though. Sweet sweet Ellie.

A/N: Oh my... it's a new chapter. *ducks flying tomatoes, glass and random AK's* My sincerest and deepest apologies. To put it simply I got so beyond stuck with this one it sat there mocking me for weeks now, grinning evilly and whispering the most horrible things into my dreams. After a huge HP marathon, I finally got an direction of the way I wanted this to go. I'm still not sure it ended up there after all, but I'm tired of messing with it, and anxious to get to the next one. And real life didn't help much. This chapter was particularly tough for a few reasons, which I want to explain.

In my opinion, Harry's family was indeed abusive. Just because they didn't beat the living stuffing out of him, doesn't mean they weren't. The mental, emotional and yes... physical abuse they delivered upon him was no less worse than if they had regularly broke his arms. It is a pet peeve of mine when I see stories that label abuse as him getting punched and raped. He was already subjected to abuse, either way you want to look at it. And before I'm flamed for his reactions later on in the chapter, as a survivor myself, different people react differently, heal differently and move on in different ways. This is just my interpretation of one way. So flames for that will be, well not appreciated in the least.

I also tried to keep with in character for both Petunia and Marge, while Dudley might have grown up a bit. I took into consideration that they are grieving as well, and emotions tend to run even higher than normal. So keep that in mind, please. With that being said, please enjoy this next installment, and hopefully the new one will be on paper shortly. Loves to you all, and thanks for your awesome support.

* * *

**Foolish Games Pt 12**

Andromeda Tonks was a woman full of grace and life. She seemed to have the best of both her sisters- the refinement and poise of Narcissa Malfoy and the almost insane zest for things that had driven Bellatrix Lestrange mad. Fortunately, she also has the fortitude and balance that gave her a style all her own. She was beautiful, and the years had been good to her as of late. Even after the heart break of losing both her husband and daughter in a short amount of time, her eyes sparkled with happiness as she welcomed Harry and his entourage into her home.

Planting kisses on either side of Harry's face and one on Ellie's forehead, she nodded pleasantly to Severus and received one in return. Then, turning a critical eye over Harry's frame, she shook her head with a frown. He looked rather rumpled in his jeans and jumper.

"Harry, dear, I love you. I hate seeing you wasting away. Didn't I tell you to get some rest last night?" she chastised.

Harry had the grace to blush. "Yes, and I did, Andy. Or at least tried."

"It doesn't look like it from here. You need more rest, hun. I thought you were going to leave for the funeral directly from here. You aren't wearing that, are you?" Andy said with a slight shake of her head, making her opinion of his choice in wardrobe very clear.

"No. We decided that I should take the potion after dropping Ellie off here. Severus isn't sure how I will react to it, and we don't want to shock poor Ellie if something goes wrong," Harry informed her.

She nodded with a knowing look cast in Severus' direction. He simply raised a brow.

"Andy! Andy!" Ellie cried interrupting the adults' conversation, holding out her arms to her one of her favorite persons. Andy laughed and accepted the glowing girl.

"Hello, love. We are going to have fun today," she assured her.

Ellie nodded vigorously. "Yesh! Color!" she giggled, dashing into the house. A small head peeked out, bright neon pink hair spiked in shocking contrast to the wood doorway.

"Harry?" Teddy Lupin called out cautiously.

"I'm here, squirt," Harry said with a grin as a small body was flung at his midsection. He wrapped his arms around the slim body, hugging his godson in a strong embrace. Burrowing his face into the boy's hair, he placed a kiss into the soft mass. "How are you?" he asked, his voice speaking of unasked questions.

Teddy, ever the bright boy, nuzzled his face back and forth across the material of Harry's jumper. "Okay, I guess."

Harry caught the tone in his voice and hugged the boy tighter. "You guess?"

Nodding, Teddy pulled back and looked up, his bright eyes solemn. "School, you know."

"Them again?"

"Yeah. But I walloped them good this time. Told them my Dad was the best werewolf ever and he was brave and good."

Harry pulled Teddy back into his chest, squeezing his eyes shut with a pained expression on his face. Severus watched the interaction, a pinch tugging at his heart. He couldn't imagine what the young orphaned Lupin was going through. To be exposed to such hatred at his young age, all because of what his father had been… He choked slightly, his wicked conscious cackling in the back of his mind. Suddenly he realized just how much Harry had in common with his godson, partially due to his actions. Had Harry felt the same way when exposed to his derision?

He had no doubt he did. Without thinking, he stepped forward, placing a hand on the boy's now black head. Teddy glanced up as Harry focused his attention on the older man with a questioning look. Severus cleared his throat. "Your father was one of the greatest men of my acquaintance, and a hero. You should always be proud of him, and your mum too. Never let anyone make you feel less of a person because of who others think they were." His dark eyes flickered over to Harry's wide ones. Understanding flashed through the emerald orbs as Harry nodded and smiled.

"Severus is right, Ted. You know they were amazing people. Nobody can take that away, okay?"

Teddy nodded, a smile returning to his face. "'Kay." He pulled back completely, shoving a hand through his spikes with a sheepish grin. "Gran-gran says I can't wallop them though. So I have to apologize tomorrow."

Laughing, Harry shook his head. "She's right, kiddo. No matter how much you might want to, violence will never solve anything."

Teddy pouted. "It did with Voldemort," he retorted.

Harry flinched. "I, uh, well…" he trailed off, his face pale. The war would always be a sore point with him. "I wish it had been different, Teddy. And it's not a good example to based your actions on, okay?"

Teddy seemed to understand and shrugged. "Alright. I'll say sorry. But they should too."

Sighing, Harry ruffled the boy's hair. "Yeah, they should." He glanced at the reappearing Andy and Ellie with a look of relief. "We need to get going if we are going to do that thing before we go to the funeral."

Andy nodded, holding out a hand to Harry. He took it and pressed it gently. "Be careful, will you?" she admonished, leveling her eyes at the younger man.

"I will. Besides, I have Severus with me. We'll be okay. I'll call you when we get home," he assured her. She shared a look with the dark man behind him, an unspoken agreement passing between them.

"If you're too tired when you get back, I can keep Ellie overnight. Don't rush back on our account; we'll be fine," she promised.

"You have our gratitude, Andromeda. We will be sure to let you know," Severus replied, a hand on Harry's shoulder in comfort. Harry flashed the Potions Master a small smile before leaning forward and kissing his daughter on her head. She smiled and waved her little hand to her papa.

"Bye bye Papa," she called sweetly.

"Bye, love. Be good," he said, turning away. For some unknown reason, his heart trembled inside his chest as they walked away. The calm he had felt seeped away with each step he took, his hand clutched his middle and he gulped in a deep breath.

Severus gave him a worried look, but remained silent. Best get on with their hellish day as soon as they could. They had sunshine waiting for them when they got back.

* * *

_What in the bloody hell was he thinking? _

Harry coughed and grappled at his throat as the thick bitter liquid squirmed its way down into his body. The potion meant to bind his magic was the worst thing he had ever tasted, and that was saying something. It burned like a white hot flame as it moved throughout his system.

_Fuck._

He should have read the warning label. Oh wait, there wasn't one. His green eyes darkened in a death glare as he looked over at the somewhat nervous Potions Master. Severus appeared to almost be contrite. Not a good sign in his opinion.

It hurt worse than a _cruciatus _curse. Instead of an overall bodily pain, this traveled in waves, beginning from the tip of his tongue and radiating south. He could almost feel a worm like substance move in his blood stream, crawling with lock and cage to capture his magic. Which in turn was aggravating the wild magic, that neither like to be leashed nor caged. It fought within Harry's body, burning him from both the inside and out. It was torture in its purest primal form.

A scream ripped from his lips, harsh and tormented. Severus flinched- a rarity, considering the horrors he had witnessed during both wars. But the pleading look in those emerald eyes was enough to make his heart clinch.

Harry twitched, then fell to the floor in convulsions as the potion worked to shut off his magic. Severus knelt next to him, holding his body and head as best he could to prevent further damage. His hands shook as he held firm, his eyes wide with apology. Merlin, he had no idea it would react like this.

Although, upon reflection, he probably should have. Harry was an exception to every rule he had ever encountered. So it would follow that a simple potion like this wouldn't have the same effect as it would on a 'normal' wizard.

Another raw hoarse scream tore the fabric of silence in the room. Harry's hands fought Severus' hold, scratching and bruising his flesh. Better him that Harry ripping at, than his own skin, Severus decided, tightening his grip.

"Just hold on, Harry," he whispered. Harry's eyes were wild, flickering rapidly around the room. His skin glowed with an eerie white light, the flames of his magic flaring black and red briefly before everything suddenly stopped. His body arched, then slumped in Severus' lap, his eyes slipping closed immediately and his breath hissing out of his bitten lips. Severus eased his hold, his hands shaking as he smoothed them through the sweaty black locks in his lap.

Moments later, Harry peeked his eyes open, the wild look having fled in favor of a wary, guarded one. Shakily, he struggled to sit upright, his hands clutching at the ground as fine tremors rumbled throughout his form. Severus gingerly eased him up, his eyes roaming over Harry's body, searching for any visible signs of lingering harm. Black met green in silent worry.

"How do you feel?" Severus asked quietly. Harry rested his head on the older man's chest, taking deep breaths into his body in time with Severus' own.

"Like someone has ripped my soul out from my skin one stab at a time. It's one of the worse things I've ever felt."

Severus nodded silently. He couldn't begin to fathom the pain Harry must have felt. "Will you be alright?"

"I think so. The pain is slowly dulling. How long do we have?" Harry asked, not moving from his position. His body still trembled, but he felt a sort of comfort being wrapped in Severus' arms, which granted, were tighter than they probably should be. The older man sighed deeply.

"About an hour. Rest a bit longer," he replied. Harry nodded, closing his eyes as Severus threaded his long fingers through his locks. Shortly after, Harry's breathing evened out, and Severus knew the younger man slept. He maneuvered them back against the couch, still keeping his arms locked firmly around his precious bundle. He watched Harry's face soften in sleep, reflecting on the morning's events. Mulling over Harry and Teddy's conversation earlier, he realized that even though he had caused this man pain and untold suffering, Harry had long since forgiven him.

However, he wasn't so sure the hero had forgiven himself for the role he had played in the deaths of his friends, nor had he come to terms with the necessity the defeat of Voldemort had been. He knew Harry had been faced with the options of inflicting great pain at times, but had never followed through with the darker intentions offered to him. Truly a pure heart, the idea he had been instrumental in the death of another being, even by default, must weigh on the younger man's soul. Wounds of the past were sometimes long in healing, especially when reopened, and revisited. And Harry's lay connected into a twisted network. One could not scab over without the others. With the required attendance at his uncle's funeral, Severus wondered just how badly Harry would be forced to bleed before the day was done.

Would this be where the healing began?

"Why the stricken look, Sev?" Harry mumbled, causing Severus to jump slightly.

"Simply contemplating," Severus said, trying to diffuse the coming conversation.

Harry, however, was far too astute for that, and narrowed his eyes. "There was nothing simple about that look," he countered. He pushed himself up, turning around to face the older man. Severus looked away. "What're you thinking about?"

Severus sighed and returned his gaze to his companion, loosening his hold on the younger man. "You," he stated simply.

"Why?" Harry asked, taken aback.

"You and Teddy, actually. And how alike you are," Severus elaborated.

Frowning, Harry seemed puzzled. "Alike? We're not alike. Not really."

Severus shook his head and stood up. Holding out his hand, he helped Harry gain his feet, relieved to see him steady in his stance. He pulled him in for a brief embrace, resting his chin on top of the curly mess. "You are, more than you obviously realize. You have been measured by your parents and their actions repeatedly. Teddy is held in disdain because of his father's affliction." He paused, tightening his hold. "I must apologize to you, Harry," he said quietly.

Harry pulled away slightly, glancing up into the harsh man's face with an expression of concern. "Why?"

"For the very reason Teddy's tormentors should apologize to him," Severus responded simply.

Shaking his head, Harry stepped out of Severus comforting arms and wrapped his arms around his own middle. His eyes were filled with hurt, causing Severus to glance sharply down to his feet. He looked betrayed, although Severus couldn't imagine why. "Don't," Harry hissed out.

Severus' head flew up rapidly, his eyes locking onto Harry's.

"Don't compare yourself to them. You've more than atoned for your wrongs in regards to me. And your reasons weren't completely unfounded, unlike theirs. What happened in the past is now past. I won't have it mucking up our future, you hear?" Harry ground out, surprising Severus with the passion in his voice. "No more, got it? No more saying sorry. We've been over this already. Just let it drop, please."

Silence fell between them as Severus stood there, his tall frame shaking lightly, the words spoken resounding inside his mind and easing the guilt in his heart. He stepped forward, reaching out with one hand and grasping Harry's stubbornly set jaw with his stained fingers. Tugging sharply, he pulled the surprised man to him, their chest bumping together. Harry's shocked cry was muffled as Severus' lips smothered all sounds between them in a claiming kiss. Fire ignited between them, both fighting for dominance. Unlike their other kisses, sweet and soft, this one was full of need, acceptance and desire. Angling his head, Severus took them to a new level, his hands clutching Harry's hips in a a bruising grip, while Harry's fisted into his long hair. Tongues licked and teeth nipped while they breathed in the same air, feeding their passion.

As the air around them heated, they pulled away, both gasping in oxygen rapidly, their eyes confused, but bright. Unable to turn away from the magnetizing flame in those green depths, Severus ran a shaking hand down Harry's cheek in reverence. Both knew their relationship had suddenly found a new level, one that would lead them tumbling on dark sheets and filling the air with wanton gasps of need.

As Harry fled up the stairs to hurriedly get ready, they both recognized the ticking time bomb.

It was now only a matter of time.

Severus, shivering, had to wondering if they would survive the flames.

Harry's absence, though brief, allowed the two men much needed space. If not for the time limit, Harry wasn't sure what would have happened. As it was, his body was humming with the after effects of their kiss, much more so than he had been at any time before. He found it strange, although not unwelcome, that Severus' kisses should make him feel vastly different than Draco's had. Severus was a grown man, and so kissed as one. Draco had been a boy, flush with the idea of playing house in the beginning, and disgusted with his toy in the end.

And while lust had turned to love in Harry's case; with Severus, it was quite the opposite. He found himself falling deeper into love with the stoic man, and as a result, now craved his flesh in carnal pleasures. His cheeks blushed red when he glanced in the mirror, his eyes dark and his hair wet from his hurried shower. He looked like a man on the brink of a lovers abyss. One he would gladly, if given the opportunity, now jump into. He smiled at his reflection. It was quite a change from his musing earlier that day.

Tightening his slim black tie, he combed a hand through his locks, then turned away. With a deep breath, he steeled himself for the hell he was about to walk into.

Merlin help him today.

* * *

Vernon Dursley was neither well known, nor well liked during life, and his funeral reflected that fact plainly. Despite the attempts on the part of his wife to create the illusion of a man of worth, it remained to those who knew him, whether in passing, or on an intimate level, that the man was good for nothing, and had done nothing of consequence while burdening the world with his overtly ignorant views and crass, bitter attitude.

So it was in stark contrast that the 'mourners' were thus divided. Those attending out of obligations, whatever they may be, stood off to one side, looking for all intents and purposes to be very put out. The mumbled conversations appeared on the outset to be polite, yet Harry knew they were no such thing. Vernon was a loud unsightly man, and he surrounded himself with people just as loud and rude. Whatever they were whispering to each other, Harry could be sure it was conversations filled with ill will and snide comments.

Wisely, he steered clear of the peering beady eyes flickering over him as he made his way to his Aunt and Cousin. Halfway there, he blanched and skidded to a stand still, almost causing Severus to bump into him.

"_Shite,"_ he hissed out.

Severus came to stand beside him, following Harry's glare to a large whale of a woman dressed obscenely in black garb better suited for happy hour at the local pub. Her bilious face was construed in the most gruesome of expressions as she wiped her round red eyes with a black hanky clutched between her sausage like fingers. Her howls were noisy and grating on Severus' ears.

"Harry?" he questioned lowly, taking in the pale man's narrowed eyes and clinched fist.

"Aunt Marge, Vernon's sister," Harry answered.

Severus searched his memories for the meaning behind the name, but came up blank. "She isn't someone you think fondly of, then?"

Harry shook his head. "The last time I saw her, she was the size of a hot air balloon and floating away over the neighbors houses. Needless to say, we haven't spoken since."

"Come again?"

"I blew her up," Harry explained shortly.

"You blew her up?" Severus replied, dumbfounded. He recalled hearing such a rumor in passing, and had taken it as another example of Harry's disregard for the known rules of magic.

The dark head beside him nodded sharply. "She said something about mum, so I blew her up. Thought I would be expelled for sure because of it."

Frowning Severus nodded, not completely understanding the circumstances, but knowing the reason behind such an action. He watched as Harry squared his shoulders and walked forward with determined steps. Whatever had happened in the past, he could see Harry was making an effort to make nice with these people. With a sigh, he followed, observing the rest of the Dursley family.

They were a motley bunch, most plain faced, without an attractive feature between them. Petunia Dursley fit right in, he reflected unkindly. She was still horse-faced and sallow in color. Her eyes, red like her sister-in-laws, were narrow and mean. She held herself with an air of agonizing importance, her black dress hanging off her form with the grace of a burlap sack. She had obviously not improved with age, her wrinkles only serving to make her look like an old worn out piece of leather. She had turned at Harry's approach, her thin unforgiving mouth pulled into a hateful sneer.

Her son, strangely enough, had cocked his head to the side and was peering at Harry with a look of open curiosity. He seemed the most approachable out of all the bitter fools. Severus suddenly grasped the fact that although Harry was a known hero in their world, few knew, and fewer recognized that fact here. To them, by the ravenous expressions in their small eyes, he was fodder, and they were anxiously awaiting the feast. He quickened his steps, staying only a tiny distance away from Harry's form. He'd be damned before he was allow them to sink their grimy teeth into his Harry.

Dudley was the first to walk up, holding out a hand to Harry. Harry glanced at it with a look of caution, as if it would turn into a snake and bite him. It wasn't any wonder, since those same fingers had been very good at delivering punishing blows upon a frail young boy's body years before. However, the young man didn't look as if he was masquerading his heinous plans behind a wall of supposed sincerity. Severus doubted the man was bright enough to even try.

"Harry," Dudley said with a queerly soft voice. "Thanks for comin'."

Harry's face stretched into a frown, although he took the hand offered and shook it briefly. He gave his cousin a once over, surprised to see the changes in the once beefy young man. Now he looked built, but not chunky. His grasp was firm, yet kind. And his eyes held a light of apology. "Dudley. Yeah…sorry for your loss. It must have been a shock," he replied, feeling completely out of his element. He was aware of Severus' presence behind him, and of the darkening glares coming from his relative before him. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck.

Dudley further shocked him by laughing. "Not so much, no. Dad was always a mean sort, you know. Guess it was coming to him, yeah? He got overly mad and his heart called it quits. Always expected it, you know."

Harry's face screwed up in a sour look, unsure how to answer. He certainly hadn't expected this kind of talk from his "Harry-hunting" cousin. "I…er…well. Yeah, I guess so. How's Aunt Petunia holding up?" he asked.

Dudley cast a glance over his shoulder to his mum and shrugged. "She's playing the part well. I think she misses him. I wasn't around much, you know. Touring and stuff. Aunty Marge sure likes to ham it up, though."

Harry's eyes focused on the two women in question, noticing the furious whispering going on between them. An uneasy feeling crept up into his chest. The looks they were giving him were almost predatory. "Sure, yeah." He nodded blankly. "Touring?"

"Yup. I'm in the pro circuit now. Keeps me away from here most of the time. Dad was awful proud, Mum too, I suppose," Dudley bragged a bit, smiling.

Harry gave a small grin. "Good to hear you're doing well, then," he said cordially.

"Just so. We should keep in touch, Harry. Catch up on old times. Heard you're a bit of a big shot now too, huh?"

Harry paled and shook his head. "No, not really. I'm content to live the quiet life."

"Aww, come on. Hero stuff and all that. Must keep you in all sorts of adventures. I'd love to hear about them. My friends think it's bloody hilarious, you know." Dudley's eyes flashed as he leaned in. "They don't know it's true. Funny, that." Then he let out a loud chuckle.

Harry gulped visibly, giving a weak grin. "Yes, very funny," he whispered lowly. Severus placed a hand on his shoulder, gripping it tightly. He glanced at it, then back to his cousin. "I should really go say hello to Aunt Petunia, Dudley. Nice talking to you," he ground out, his frame shaking slightly. Dudley nodded, wandering off to talk to some other victim.

"He's different," Harry began, cutting off anything Severus could say. Understanding what he did, or didn't want said, Severus released his shoulder, but stood beside him, gazing upon his head.

"Indeed."

Moving forward sluggishly, Harry found a seat towards the back, sinking into it heavily. Severus followed suit, taking in his companion's too pale complexion. "We can leave if you like," he offered, not liking how faint Harry looked.

Harry shook his head. "No, I want to see this through. Maybe I'll be done with this, done with _them_ when it's over," he responded harshly. Severus simply sat back, giving his hand a light squeeze and then folding them in his own lap. As much as he wanted to give the overwhelmed man some comfort, he knew that any outward display of affection would be cause for fireworks in this asinine group. And Harry didn't need anything else that would give them further reason to rip into him.

Unfortunately, such thoughts did not extent else where.

The minister called for people to be seated, waiting for Marge's howls to subside enough for him to begin the service. He spoke of eternal salvation for the good and damnation for the bad, and praised Vernon's imaginary virtues. He went on to extol his grace in giving his needy nephew a good home, how the caring man had looked out for the extremely troubled young Harry, and how often he had lamented his worry over the poor youth's black soul.

Harry sat rigid, listening to the lies spilling forth from the shallow man's lips, his heart hard and his fist white knuckled. Whispers followed, the mourners turning in their seats to catch a glimpse of the devil's spawn the Dursley's had painstakingly cared for. His cheeks a flaming red against his white face, he simply stared straight ahead, his condemning eyes boring into the serpent tongued minister. The man sneered back, continuing his character assassination of Harry.

Meanwhile, Severus fought against his desire to throttle the man and all who agreed with him, his protective nature roused in a primal animalistic form. A pale, clammy hand slipped over his, and he looked down to see Harry's holding on to him tightly. Flipping his hand over, he clutched it firmly, soaking up the strength Harry was selflessly giving him. It incensed him, the glares of hatred and shaking of heads each Judas gave. His black eyes flashed daringly, locking on to each person. Most, unable to bear the intensity of his look, glanced away. He felt a small twinge of satisfaction in that.

"And so we commence the giving over of our dear brother's soul to the arms of the heavenly fold, praying that his spirit find his reward and the peace he rightly deserves," the minister concluded with a flourish, accompanied by renewed sobs from Marge and Petunia. The coffin was lowered, as the observers stood ready. Harry stood as well, watching with glassy eyes, unaware of anything around him.

"Heaven, huh?" he said quietly. Severus gave him a strange look. "Somehow, I think he'll be disappointed." He gazed vacantly at the piles of dirt being tossed in, a weird sort of smile on his face. He shook his head, then glanced up at Severus.

"I should say a short hello to Aunt. For propriety sake," he commented, walking away. Severus followed, concern etched on his features.

Drunkenly, Harry strode over to his Aunts, pausing just before them. He took in the freshly turned ground, and his Aunt's sick pallor. "Aunt," he said politely. "I wanted to offer my sincerest apologies for your loss."

A sharp and resounding _slap_ cut through the lingering quiet as Petunia shrieked in rage. Harry stumbled back, surprised by the blow. His eyes held confusion. "You! You little brat. What would you know of loss? You brainless little twit. We should have drown you when we had the chance, you know. Caused us nothing but trouble. Never any good," she screamed at him, her horse-ish face flushed.

A red mark, with streaks of blood marred Harry's left cheek, dripping crimson. Severus was by his side in an instant, ready to rail at the woman. Harry held up a hand to stop him, shaking his head. "Nevertheless, I'm sorry."

"It's all your fault, you know," Marge began, her nostrils flared out and her teeth barred. She closely resembled a rabid dog, chomping at the bit. "He found out about your filthy little pup."

Harry grew white, his face drawn in agony. "What?" he whispered.

Petunia sneered. "Oh yes. We know all about your _indiscretion. _Imagine what shame you brought to this family. My poor Vernon was so overcome with worry, his heart just couldn't take it." Her eyes filled with hateful tears and she raised her hand to strike him again. "You're to blame. You took him away from me."

As the hand flew down, Severus' own pale fingers reached up and grabbed her wrist in a bruising grip. "That is quite enough, Madame," he barked out, his voice commanding. The entirety of the assembly stopped, turning their attention to the drama unfolding before them. Severus continued, heedless of his audience. "Your husband died because he was fat and had a violent temper. Whatever the underlying cause was, it was ultimately his lifestyle that killed him. The blame lays solely at his and your feet. Perhaps had you lived up to your duties as a wife, he would have been subject to healthier foods." His lip turned up with a look of disgust. "Do not pass the fault over to someone innocent."

"Innocent!" Petunia cried out, jerking her hand away and stumbling ungracefully. She pointed a finger at the stunned Harry. "This boy has never been innocent in his life. Always with his freaky ways and his bringing trouble. Dudders almost died because of him. We had to leave our home because of him." She turned to Harry triumphantly. "Isn't that right boy? You might have this man under your little freaky spell, but we, your family, know what you really are. A killer. Got your parents killed. Not to mention all those friends of yours. And now Vernon. You're as guilty as that Dark Lord of yours. Someone ought to do the same to you."

"I still say it's his Mum's fault. Something wrong with the bitch, than the pups aren't right either." Marge stepped forward, wrapping an arm around Petunia's shaking shoulders. Her eyes glistened with malice. "Right, boy? Best to have put you down, and your hell spawn too. Vernon said so. Maybe he'd be alive now if he hadn't been so soft."

"Maybe," Harry whispered, his head bowed.

"What did you say, boy?" Marge growled.

"Maybe you're all right," he replied.

"Harry," Severus warned, his fury barely bridled. He could feel his magic swarming like angry bees just below the surface of his skin. Harry's defeated voice pierced him through.

Harry raised his head, his eyes bright with tears. "Maybe you're right, and maybe I should have died instead of all those people. Maybe Uncle would be alive. But," his voice trembled dangerously, the temperature of the air around them dropping drastically. "Never blame my daughter for what is my fault, my sins. Or my parents. My Mum loved me enough to die for me. I doubt you would do the same, you shallow, sniveling half witted bitch."

The air crackled loudly, shaking the ground beneath their feet. Severus' eyes widened alarmed. Even with the dampening potion, Harry still held an untold amount of power. Pushing his body flush behind Harry's, he wrapped his arms around the man's taunt stomach, trying to infuse stability into Harry's frame. He could feel Harry's muscles jump, fighting for control as he grasped in great breaths of air.

"Well, I never!" Marge gasped out, horrified at Harry's cheek. "How do you like that? I'm glad Vernon isn't here to see you speak shamefully." She began to advance on the duo, her face almost purple. "You shouldn't be so disrespectful to your elders, boy."

"I'd back off, Aunty," Dudley's voice cut in, his sturdy form appearing along side Severus. He glanced from the two men to the two women before him, narrowing his eyes.

"Dudders!" Petunia cried.

Dudley gave his mother a perfect sneer. "Ah, shut it, Mum. You know better than to talk. You know what Harry is. I'd be surprised if he doesn't blow you both up," he replied, giving Harry a small grin. "Frankly, it's be a riot to see, and you'd deserve it."

"Dudley…I…." she sputtered.

"'Nough, Mum. It's Dad's fault he keeled over. Leave off Harry and his tike. It won't bring Dad back, you know?" Dudley nodded in conjunction with his own conclusion. Severus shot the man an appraising look. Perhaps there was more to the half-wit than he thought. Turning to his cousin, he gave Severus a wink. "Take care of him, yeah? I'll deal with these two. Tell Harry to call me some time."

Severus, somewhat flabbergasted, looked down at the now unconscious man in his arms, then nodded. "I'm sure Harry would express his thanks if he could." He bowed his head shortly. "I think I may have underestimated you," he admitted.

Dudley smirked cockily. "Happens all the time. See ya." And with a wave, he was leading the stone shocked women away by the arms. Severus watched him go, shaking his head in disbelief.

Silently, he returned his attention back to the almost transparent Harry, lifting him into his arms with a concerned sigh. This was not how he wanted to see the afternoon end.

* * *

_Haze._

_It floated around him, wrapping him in a blanket of alternating dark and light. Whispers of sound and flashes fuzzy pictures dazzled his blank mind. He saw faces, angry faces, sneering their disgust and utter contempt for his existence. _

_His aunt and uncle, his schoolmates from primary. Draco with his pointy features and perfect hair, grinning as he fell from some untold height. His best friend, with his red hair and freckles, accusing him of being a cheat, and later, an unfeeling wretch. The dark looks of the man he loved, his black eyes and thin lips smirking with each transgression he was faulted for._

_The screams and howling cries of his comrades, dying by his side. George shaking him, shouting 'why.' Why couldn't it be him in place of Fred? Why hadn't he been so lucky as to fall from that green deadly curse? _

_Teddy standing before him, accusing him of murdering his parents._

_Why?_

_Why?_

**_Why? _**

_They all wanted to know, their words rising to a swelling din, pulsating against the sides of his brain, leaking out around the protective walls he had erected. Blood poured in rivers through his memories, coating each good and light one, staining them a dark black red. He could feel the cracking of his sanity as he struggled to swim in the torrents of crimson. Gurgling, gasping for breath, the hot air searing his lungs as he tried to take the fire into his own body, tried to navigate the shed lives he had helped deliver into the Grim Reapers' hold. His hands clawed repeatedly at vines, his palms sliced to ribbons as unseen thorns pierced his flesh, adding to life forces swirling away._

_"You killed him."_

_"It's your fault."_

_"How could you?"_

_Again and again the words flowed around him, each louder, drowning out his cries for help, his denials of knowledge, of guilt and of blame. His sobbed apologies went unheeded, unheard by the mass of accusers now before him. Heavily he was pushed into a chair; the bright light shone upon him, blinding his sight. Hard iron clasped to his wrists, and shackles bound his legs spread apart. Leather wound around his neck, biting into his muscles, restricting all movement._

_"How do you plea?" a dark voice asked from somewhere in the blackness around him._

_"Yes, how does he plea? How does he plea?" resounding voices chanted, each word like nails driven into his mind._

_"I don't know," he called out, panic squirming in his tone._

_Laughter and the twittering of whispers ricocheted. "He doesn't know. He doesn't know," they echoed._

_He strained his eyes, trying to see through the light into the inky shade, wishing he could see whom it was that spoke to him. His eyes burned bright with tears, his hands painfully fisted and digging into the wood of the chair._

_"Guilt," came a velvety response. "How can he be anything else?"_

_"Severus?" he breathed. The man materialized before him, holding tightly onto Ellie's little hand. He gave him a warm smile, his eyes eerily kind._

_"I'm here, Harry."_

_"Thank Merlin," Harry whispered with a responding smile. He tugged at his bonds in frustration. "Tell them, Severus. Tell them I don't know what I did wrong."_

_Severus shook his head, his shining black hair moving gracefully around his shoulders. Ellie stuck a thumb in her mouth with a toothy grin._

_"Papa bad. Papa kill. Papa guilty," she giggled, dancing around his chair._

_"Do you not see, Potter. Even your precious daughter knows what you are. Guilty. Guilty."_

_Harry shook his head fiercely, the leather straps biting into his neck. "I don't understand. Severus, please," he begged frantically._

_Severus bowed his head. "I'm sorry Harry. But I can't help you now." With a kiss upon Harry's forehead, he took Ellie by the hand and disappeared into the engulfing darkness. Ellie's lingering laughter sang back a sad song to the young man, his heart suddenly beating at an impossible speed, his lungs stunned into inactivity._

_Gasping, he screamed, fighting with all he had to break his bonds, anxious to follow the ones he loved from the hell he became trapped in. With a final roar, he jerked forward._

Soft light spilled into his line of sight and he twisted his body rapidly around, the sheets of his bed tangling around his limbs. Calloused hands pressed down onto his shoulders and a wet cloth wiped across his forehead.

"Shh," Severus whispered.

"Sev?" Harry croaked out, opening his eyes wider, letting them adjust to the light he now registered as a couple candles on the bedside table.

"A dream, Harry. Nothing more," Severus said softly, pulling the blankets away from the shuddering man. Harry grabbed his hands, holding them tightly with his own. He looked down at the white knuckles and then back up into the black orbs of the Potions Master.

"Dream?" he asked, his throat dry and sore. Severus released one of his hands, grabbing the glass of water perched on the table and holding it to Harry's lips. Usually, Harry would balk at the help, but the shattered man seemed too disoriented to even comprehend the action. He took deep drinks of the cool liquid, feeling it flow though him, bringing his heart to a steadier beat.

"Yes. It must have been quite bad, given the amount of thrashing and screaming you were engaged in. I would venture a guess it had something to do with your family's opinions of you they voiced this afternoon," Severus replied, setting the glass back down and reclaiming Harry's shaking hand.

Harry looked around him, taking in every detail of his surroundings with wild eyes. "I…they…and then…" He began to shake his head rapidly. Severus stroked a thumb across the back of his hand and Harry found he could focus on that action. He watched the movement diligently.

"What they said," he began, his voice still trembling. "What they said about me, it's true, right?"

Severus jerked back as if Harry's words had physically struck him. "True?" he echoed. Harry nodded, his eyes lifting with a heartbreaking look. For a moment, he looked like the scared little boy of yesteryear. Severus felt the love he held for the lost man before him sear a path of fire through his heart. After all this time, a few hateful words from the people who had raised him and he was reduced to a scarred and confused young man. It infuriated Severus with an anger he had never felt before. It should have choked him, the ultimate Slytherin, with the mushy warmth and utter adoration that welled up in him.

Instead, he realized, he had become a better man, a man whole again, without petty hatred and doubts. He wrapped his arms around Harry, enfolding him within his protective embrace. One hand stroked through his black hair, while the other rubbed gentle circles along his lower back.

"Harry," he called softly, pulling him back to reality. They gazes caught and held. "I'm only going to say this once, so I ask you to listen closely. Understand?"

Harry nodded.

"Do you remember our talk the other day, when you first received the missive? I said your relatives were insipid fools. I blindly thought that your trials under them were, while abusive, simply borne of ignorance." Severus took in a calming breath, still shaken by the manner of behavior exhibited that afternoon. "I was wrong. To be treated as you were, to have such…" he trailed off, words failing him. "Such reproach and hatred heaped upon you. The level of insensitivity, the sheer amount of despicable things they said, it's nauseating. Even the Dark Lord did not speak to his subordinates quite so disgustingly." He winced, recalling how Harry had stood there, allowing the abuse to be shouted at him, accepting the blow punishingly give by a woman that should have shown at least some care. "And yet, I wouldn't be amiss at saying this isn't the worst of it, is it? You have been treated in a more vile manner than most could imagine."

Harry's hand reached up to touch the bandaged scratches. "I never complained. I knew they could have been kinder. But they did take me in."

"You have never spoken of their treatment, and I have respected that. I only gather what little I could from what I saw during our lessons, but I did not, could not have suspected this extent. Have they hurt you like this before?" Severus tipped his head down, catching Harry's eyes. "I want you to answer me, as your friend, as someone who cares for you, Harry. Please."

Harry looked away, trying in vain to slip out of Severus' hold. The older man only tightened his embrace. After a moment, he went limp, giving up the fight. "It was never very bad. Just some cuffs to the head, or pulled hair. Sometimes Aunt would go a bit overboard and slap me, and Dudley did think I was good for a punching bag. And Aunt Marge's dog…well you know how dogs are." He shrugged. "But it was usually because my magic acted up. So I kinda deserved it, in a way. Their life couldn't have been easy, dealing with me, so they reacted the best way they knew." He glanced up at Severus sheepishly. "I'm not excusing them, you know. It's just that I understand."

Severus sucked in a harsh breath, pushing down the rising bile in his throat. Harry's recounting brought his own painful childhood into stark relief. He too remembered excusing away the bruises and broken bones. If he had been a better son… He shook his head, then pressed his lips hard down onto Harry's curls. "Harry." He closed his eyes, trying to find the words to convey what Harry needed to hear. What someone should have told him years ago.

"What they did was not understandable. There is, nor ever was any reason for you to have to go through that. A child, wizard, half blood or Muggle, deserves to be loved. Albus entrusted you into their care, and they should have valued you as a member of their family, not a bloody dog."

Harry shot up so quickly Severus hadn't a chance to retaliate. Standing with his legs locked, hands wrapped protectively around him, Harry shook his head. "No, they shouldn't have. I wasn't family, really."

Confused, Severus frowned. "I don't understand."

"I mean I was, but it wasn't like they owed it to me. I never asked them to. Why should I expect anything just because I was some orphan kid whose Mum saved him? People always say the world owes me something because my parents were taken from me. So what?" he sneered, his fiery green gaze now blazing into Severus'. "Look at you, Sev. Look at what you went through. You had it worse, I know you did. And nobody told you that you deserved better. Kids lose their Mums and Dads all the time. It happens, it's life. So I was picked on and didn't get the love most kids get." He shrugged. "I'm not saying it was right, or okay, or bloody well whatever. And no, I don't forgive them, not sure I ever will. I'm just saying I get it now. I understand. It's how they are. And part of what they said is probably true. They had to suffer because they were connected to me. And they can blame me if they like. We blame each other, really." He ran a surprisingly still hand through his locks, turning his attention to the flickering shadows on the walls. "Maybe they are right, that if I had been gone, Vernon would be alive. I don't know. I don't give a flying…" He shook his head and took in a breath. Striding over to the bed, he sank back down upon it and took Severus' hand again.

"I know you want to heal the hurt, and tell me that I'm worth more. That nothing that happened was my fault and that I should have had so much more. You're probably right." He gave a small smile. "And I'm glad that you of all people think so. But, Severus. That isn't life. What happened was my life, and now this, with you and Ellie is the life I have now. It's what I'm choosing the built." He pressed gentle kisses on Severus scarred knuckles, glancing up through his fringe to look at the man he loved. "And right now, I'm content with that, alright?"

Shaken to his very core, Severus sat in quiet awe of the scarred and damaged man before him. To see and hear such strength, he felt humbled. He, who had taken his experiences and used them as a source of resentment and revenge, could only wish he had known this boy long before he knew the man. There was a reason he was called the Golden boy, for a heart like that could only belong to someone with the purest nature. He had faults, oh this Severus knew. He was human beyond without a doubt. But there was something that kept him beautiful throughout it all.

Drawing Harry to his chest, he laid back on the bed, nestling the curly head down to his heart. Unable to think of a response suitable for such declarations, he turned his head to gaze down at the angel in his arms and said the one thing he could:

"I love you, Harry Potter."

* * *

A/N2...Gasp! He said it! Till next time...


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: ***hums along to Lily's Theme*...Huh? Oh, yeah.. not mine. Just Ellie, as if you didn't know that by now.

**A/N: ***glares and shakes fist* They won't behave, I tell you! I wanted to write about Draco... and he hid. Coward! He'll get his in the next chapter. This one... well... I dislike it. It's a filler, plan and simple. Nothing exciting. Just something to tie up a few loose ends and get the plot to where I want it. I'm sorry for the horrible length of time it took for me to get this out to you, but I had a bit of a flame that kinda killed my muse for a bit. I've re-written the whole thing at least twice, and this is the best it will get, I'm afraid. So if it isn't up to standard, I'm well aware, Please don't tell me, alright. *hides face*

Just a note...DH2! OMG, best one of all. And how many balled when Snape died? And the memories... and Fred... and... oh geez... I'll hush up now.

**Enjoy...or not. Just no flames.  
**

* * *

**Foolish Games Pt 13**

Memories are funny things, driving our minds into dark recesses we would rather not look into. They draw out our weaknesses and bring to light our deepest fears. Longings swept in the past, swells of feelings better left buried. We see clearly the sins we bore, and the hells we have lived.

Such was the existence of Harry Potter for most of his childhood. Words of kindness were non-existent. A simple touch, loving and understanding was as foreign to him as the actual belief in magic. Life, strange and cruel stretched out beyond his foreseeable future and he was resigned to that.

His acceptance to Hogwarts changed that. Finding friends and acceptance, he began to see a different life, a light at the end of his dark tunnel. However, each summer, his cage returned, locking him away from the love he so desperately wanted. Family was what filled his dreams each night while he slaved under those he should have belonged to.

As the years dragged on and he saw the real difference between love and hate, his outlook changed. Gone were the rosy glasses he first wore. Now he looked upon a path of gray, where dark and light intermingled. Death, life, rebirth... everything meshed together in a cornucopia of muddied theories. Friends turned their backs at the slightest provocation, mentors changed from confidants to exhibiting suspicious actions. By the end of his fifth year, he knew not who to trust, nor who to love. This was only compounded as revelations of Dumbledore's true nature and Draco's conflicted feelings and actions became horribly apparent. Until that final spell was cast on that final day, Harry couldn't be sure he was in the light.

One person stood out amongst the haze. From the moment they met, Harry knew Severus' feeling for him. The disgust and hatred he bore shown plainly on the Potions Master's face. It was the one thing Harry could count on, his anchor in the riptide of a deadly tug-o-war. He could grasp onto the emotions the man drove into him, clung to each sneer and taunting word. Yes, he was Harry's light, whether he ever knew it or not.

So it wasn't too far fetched for the younger man to cling once again to the feelings Severus now invoked. It may had happened slowly, developing over the length of their renewed acquittance. And he supposed to many, his emotions would appear far fetched and unlikely. However, he had doubted himself throughout his life, and this was one thing he refused to question. The fact that Severus felt the same, and was willing to admit to it, whispering them on one of his darker days, when he was sure he would be lost to his nightmarish memories only intensified his love. The way the older man held him gently in his arms that night, the beating of their hearts unitedly singing a symphony of words neither needed to say, became a balm to Harry's overwrought nerves, driving back the demons he fought within his mind. Long after the light had faded, Severus held tight, reassuring the younger man of the truth of his words, and Harry found no reason to doubt him.

Morning had long since dawned in its garish light, casting dim shadows on the walls. The dampened glory of the sunrise was hidden behind choking clouds of rain, pouring down the tears of heaven. A dismal day dressed in gray and gloom, and yet Harry felt no affinity with the weather. He lay abed long after the alarm rung, his legs tangled in the sheets, his eyes open to the dimness of his room. One arm hugged his pillow to his chest, the other touching the tip of a piece of parchment laying beside him. Rolling over, he eyed the small note, a smile teasing his lips. He found himself feeling much lighter than the previous day. His rage against himself and his relatives had cooled after his ranting and vocal vomiting. Now, a warmth and contentment surrounded him, allowing him the freedom to arise for a new day.

With a yawn, he sat up, gingerly grasping the note, the spidery handwriting as familiar as his own. His heart beat just a tad faster as he opened it, his smile blooming while he read the contents:

_Harry,_

_Gone to Hogwarts. I will return by lunch. We will administer the antidote then. Andy says Ellie is well, and to rest. I second that. Send Tibby if you need to._

_Severus_

_And yes, I meant the words I spoke last night. Every one of them._

It wasn't much, and not in the sappy forms most love notes would take. And yet, it meant the world to Harry. Severus had never once lied to him, and he knew he wasn't about to do so now. The contrast between the stoic man and Draco was wide, and now undoubtedly apparent. And Harry thrived on that knowledge.

Slowly he gained his feet, stretching his body in a lean line of golden skin and muscle. He felt better than he had in years, rested and finally refreshed. Purged of the hatred he had kept hidden, he knew he could now fully open his heart to the man he loved, confident that it was returned just as passionately.

Tibby popped into the room just then, her eyes wide and her ears alert. "Master Harry, sir. Master Severus told Tibby not to wake Master Harry," she squeaked, hopping from foot to foot. Harry flashed her a smile as he collected his clothes for the day.

"That's fine, Tibby. I needed a lay in, apparently. I'll just shower, shall I? Could you have some tea made, please?" he requested, watching as the bright eyed elf bobbed her head and winked out of sight. Folding the note again, he left it on the bedside table and wandered into the bathroom. Offhandedly, as he stood under the hot spray, he wondered why Severus had went to Hogwarts, but soon pushed it from his mind. He could question the man when he saw him in a few hours. Lighthearted and calm, he devoted himself to thoughts of how to tell his love that he was well and truly his.

* * *

The dimness of the heavy rain covered the castle in a misty shroud. Hogwarts stood still and silent in the early morning light, welcoming Severus into her gates. With sure and steady footsteps, he walked towards Minerva's office, a single thought circling through his usually busy mind. Torches flares bright, giving off a flickering light and slight warmth along the cool stone passageways. Grumbling portraits awakened as he passes, their annoyance just as loud as when he had haunted the halls so many years before. It had been a while since he had visited last, although nothing had changed.

Stopping before the gargoyle and waiting for it to respond, Severus frowned. The day prior had been eye opening to say the least, and his own actions and reactions- surprising. Yet, he could not say he regretted finally revealing his heart to Harry. The timing felt right, and as he had held the younger man during the night, he had no doubts as to his own place in their lives.

However, Harry's revelations plagued his tired mind, sending sleep away from him. He required answers that could only come from here. And so it was with a heavy heart that he left his love. The healing process had begun for Harry, he knew. But there were deeper wounds, hinted at, that Severus understood would not come to light without his own direct knowledge of events in the past. Perhaps it was not the right path to take, but he was determined to help Harry, no matter the cost.

The gargoyle glared darkly at him before jumping to the side and allowing him passage. Ascending the stairs, he stepped into the Headmistresses' office, noting that she was absent at the moment. It was ideal, in actuality, as his questions were for the twinkling eyed Dumbledore. The wizened old man nodded his head as Severus took a seat, his black eyes narrowed on the painting. Silence stretched out between them for a few moments before Albus cocked his head with a smile.

"Good morning, Severus. It is truly a rare privilege to see you and so early as well. I trust you are well?" he inquired graciously.

Severus, however, was not in the mood for such pleasantries. Still, he indulged the barmy old man. "I am well enough, Albus," he replied tensely.

"Good, good my boy. Dismal weather. Days like this make me glad I am painted." He shook his head with a smile. "Old bones, you know. Have you come to see Minerva?"

"No," Severus said shortly. Albus continued to smile.

"Surely you did not come to see me, then?"

Frustration began to build up in the Potions Master and he wondered if perhaps Albus knew the exact purpose for his visit and was merely trying to delay the inevitable confrontation. "I did." He narrowed his eyes, his lips turned upwards into a sneer. "However, I suspect you are already aware of that, Albus."

The old wizard waved his hand, his bangled sleeve tinkling in the stillness. "Come now, Severus, you know that even I am not all knowing."

"Perhaps not. However, I do think you may know more than you have let on in the past."

"Oh?" he asked neutrally. "Pertaining to anything specific?"

Severus ground his teeth in irritation. Albus had always been underhanded on his best days. However, when it was something he wanted to keep close to the chest, his games of verbal cat and mouse could last for hours. That was not a game Severus was willing to play presently. So he stood, bracing his arms against the large desk and leaned forwards, pinning the painting with his cold gaze.

"You and I had a discussion on the eve of Harry's sixth year. Do you recall the nature of that conversation?"

Albus nodded slightly, a calculating look present in his painted eyes. "You expressed some concerns over young Harry's mental health after the events at the Ministry. I believe you mentioned the probability of him suffering for possible depression. So unlike you, Severus, showing concern for his well being, given your history together."

Shaking his head, Severus could see the direction Albus was attempting to lead their talk. "Yes, at the time, it was. However, he was to be our savior, and as such, it would only be natural for me, or anyone whose lives he held in his hands unknowingly, to be worried. I am not here to defend my actions from that time."

"I thought not," Albus replied grimly.

Severus ignored him. "You brushed my concerns aside, as I recall, saying Harry was a strong boy and with the help he would garnish from his _family_, he would continue on the right course. I thought it strange, knowing what I did of his aunt, that you would say something like that. And yes, blinded though I was by my own attitude towards him, even I could see when he arrived back that year, that he was haunted."

"Sirius' death was devastating to the lad. You know that, Severus. He had every reason to be, shall we say, unhappy with his current fate. He had learned of the prophecy as well," the painted man countered.

Snorting, Severus rolled his eyes. "Well planned, that," he paused, gathering his thoughts to come to the point. "Did you ever inquire, even once during his years here, how he was faring in the care of his 'family'?"

Albus sank back into his chair, his lips pulled into a thin line. Severus knew that look all too well. "You did know what was going on in that house, did you not?" he ground out.

"I knew he was less than content to go back to them each summer. He had vocalized his discomfort several times. But you know as well as I how young people can be," Albus defended.

Severus' eyes slipped closed as he sat back into his seat. With a heavy sigh, he cast his iciest look upon his one-time mentor. "Did you, or did you not know of the hell Harry was pull through at the hands of those insidious Muggles? The extent of the mental and emotional abuse and neglect they delivered upon him each and every summer?"

"I did," came the quiet reply.

"Did you ever attempt to rectify the situation?"

"I did not."

Silence, heavy, foreboding fell upon the room, damning the evidence which neither man could deny any longer.

"Was anyone else aware?" Severus had to ask, his voice a dark hiss.

The painted face suddenly looked gray and drawn, as if the years of his knowledge finally bore down on him. "Poppy, perhaps. She was, after all, the one to see him at the start of each year," Albus suggested.

Severus nodded silently, digesting the severity of the willful blindness presented to him.

"You cannot fault us solely, Severus. You were his professor as well. Did you not see the signs? You who came from a similar situation should have been in-tune to his. Were you not the one to pass over any hint of there being something wrong as arrogance and a willful lack of submitting to authority?"

"I was not the one he looked to for guidance, Headmaster. That was your role, one you carefully crafted and carried out without thought to the sheer faith the boy had put in you and your knowledge. He believed that you knew what was best for him," Severus shot back. "Although, we both know that wasn't true, was it Albus?"

"I did what had to be done," Dumbledore defended. "Having Harry's trust was imperative for the role he had to play. Had he known..."

"Had he known, your pawn might have just made a different decision, taken a different path," Severus finished harshly. "You chastised me once for showing care for him, given the dark and desperate fate he had. You held me to my hastily given promise I spoke as a younger man and commanded my silence. I had to watch him grow that year, Albus, knowing what I did. Knowing how he was being led to slaughter, knowing the hatred that would intensify after your death. I did what I did to atone for my sins. What did he do, Albus, to deserve the horrible fate he had? Tell me, could you not have given him some reprieve? Some hope?"

The searching look the dead Headmaster gave him spoke volumes. He looked away in disgust. Standing stiffly, he faced the painting again. Coldly, he shook his head. "I respected you once. No more. You will not hear anything more from me about Harry. He is free from you, as am I." Spinning on his heel, he swiftly walked to the door and left without a backwards glance. As he strode down the halls and away from the office, he felt as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Perhaps it was not only Harry in need of healing. Just possibly, there was still a broken young man inside who could use the strength they found together to bring back the man he once was, and could be again.

Ignoring the looks from early rising students, he silently moved to the gates and made for home. Home... and his Harry.

* * *

Harry sat at the table, gazing at his cold cup of tea when Severus' wards alerted him to his return. Tiredly, he rubbed his eyes and pushed away the parchment he had been reading. With one stressful situation resolved, it was now time to focus on his next decision. The mocking request for his help on the war museum, the possibility of working in the company of Draco weighted down on him.

Another invitation had been included in the day's mail and he knew he could no longer put off the inevitable. His earlier good mood had dampened, leaving him frustrated and tired. He glanced up as the door opened, trying swiftly to banish the darken shadows in his eyes. There was no need to worry Severus, especially after the night they had had before. Summoning the tea pot, he rose from his seat and listened intently for the footstep of his love.

Severus' face was pulled into a scowl, but his body had the air of a man relaxed, content. It was something Harry had not witnessed thus in their relationship. He didn't think he had ever seen the man look so even as a Professor. Not that it was surprising, given the nature of his tenure at Hogwarts. If anyone had had more on his plate than Harry, Severus was obviously it. The man had yet to acknowledge his companion, so Harry took a moment to study the Potions Master.

Dressed semi-casually, Severus tall body had filled out nicely over the years, without the midlife pudge. His face, still somewhat unlined, looked softer now; his eyes bright and calculating as always, but without the malice. And while his features would never be comely to most, to Harry they were a welcome sight, one that quickened his breath and caused his belly to twist. His long potion stained fingers unbuttoned his rain coat, as he muttered something under his breath. Harry smiled and cleared his throat slightly.

Deep black eyes flashed up to meet green and Severus moved forward quickly, enveloping Harry in an uncharacteristic embrace. His strong arms cradled the younger man to his chest, and he closed his eyes as he breathed in deeply. Harry, stunned for a moment, stood stiffly, then folded his arms around Severus' back. They stood there awhile, drawing comfort from one another.

Slowly, they drew back. Harry's eyes search Severus' face, looking for something that would give him a reason for the older man's unusual behavior. Not that he was complaining. But something spoke of unsettled emotions and Severus' strange and sudden need for Harry's contact. Although vastly more open with him than anyone else, Harry knew from experience that Severus was not a touchy-feely man.

"You're upset," he finally concluded.

Severus dropped his arms and maneuvered around the younger man. Silently, he grasped the clean cup before him and poured himself some tea. Taking a long and bracing sip, he wondered how to respond. Should he tell Harry of his conversation with Dumbledore? Or would it only cause the ex-Gryffindor more pain?

Turning back around, Severus caught and held Harry's questioning gaze, the worry clear in the green depths. "It's nothing," he finally said, setting the cup down and giving his companion a good once over. "You look rather wrung out, Harry. Did you rest as requested?"

Harry had the grace to flush lightly and dipped his head. "Not as much as I probably should have. I felt really good this morning and wanted to do a few things around here. But I guess I overshot my stamina." He glanced to the side sheepishly. "Tibby has already given me a stern talking to."

Severus nodded, relieved for the moment that Harry had been easily distracted. However, one look into his eyes and he knew he was wrong. No, Harry may have let the subject drop for now, but there was a determined shadow that spoke of unasked questions. He would not let it rest for long. "Your caged magic would be the most likely cause of that. Magic is a part of a wizard's soul. Without it, our bodies struggle to compensate for the loss, taxing our systems. We should begin the antidote as soon as you have eaten lunch."

"Begin?" Harry inquired, confused.

"Yes. With the amount of magic you have Harry, including your more volatile wild strains, it would be unwise for you to unlock all of it at the same moment. We will unleash a bit each day. By next weekend, you will be back to your full capacity," Severus explained.

Harry nodded in understanding. "Did Andy tell you when it would be best to pick up Ellie?"

Severus shook his head, watching with belated curiosity as Tibby began setting out their lunch items. "She said that whenever you felt it feasible for her to return, then to just floo. Ellie was quite pleased to play with her cousin for the day, and Andy seemed concerned at your rather violent reaction last night." Harry blushed, but could not deny Severus' words. The older man leveled a stern look at him. "I would like to see you try to get a bit of rest after you take the antidote. It will most likely tire you out." Briskly, he seated himself at the table, nodding his thanks to the small house elf, before pointedly motioning for Harry to sit as well.

Sinking into his seat, Harry picked up his spoon and began to eat the light soup Tibby had provided to offset the slightly cooler weather. They ate in relative silence, neither willing to divulge much of their wandering thoughts. Harry's gaze flickered over to the side, landing on the earlier discarded missive. Severus caught it, and frowned.

"They sent another request, did they?"

Harry glared at the offending piece of mail; the urge to incinerate it as he had done its predecessor was great. He clenched his fist around his spoon and sighed. "They strongly hinted at sending more if I do not respond soon."

"And have you made a decision in regards to it, yet?" Severus asked, catching the exasperated expression on Harry's face.

Harry shook his head. "Not exactly. I mean, yeah it's for a good cause, and I want to make sure the right people get the credit they deserve, whether dead or alive. And I know I shouldn't be so affected by the idea of working with Draco. I've went over the reasons several times now. And we talked about it earlier. But..." he trailed off with a look of self derision. "I'm being pretty pathetic, aren't I?"

"I have already disclosed my opinion on the matter, Harry," Severus responded. "Although, you make a valid point. Knowing you as I do, you would not want the stories of our comrades told in an incorrect fashion. You and your friends are the few who know the whole truth of those events, especially that final night."

Harry's eyes lite up and he grinned. "You're brilliant, Severus, you know that. I have been looking at this as something I have to do alone. But I don't. I'm not the only one who has something to share. They never said I couldn't ask others to help too."

Severus sat back and gave him an appraising look. "Very astute of you, Harry. Very Slytherin."

Harry beamed and set down his spoon. Tibby cleared away their meal, leaving them with steaming mugs of tea and freshly made biscuits. His grin took on a mischievous tone as he munched on one. "Besides, imagine the pain it would cause Draco, having to deal with a bunch of ex-Gryffindors."

Raising a single brow, Severus simply shook his head, a small smile gracing his lips. Yes...very Slytherin indeed.

A few minutes later, he stood from the table. "If you are ready then, shall we proceed?" he asked. Harry nodded, a slight sense of trepidation filling his body. The original potion had been hell. He had to wonder with a shiver if the unlocking would be just as unpleasant. Despite being trapped inside of him, he had felt his magic clamoring against its prison, less than happy at being caged. It was wise, no doubt, that they do this in stages. He wouldn't like to see what would happen if it was all unleashed at once.

Standing in his bedroom, he gave Severus a searching look, hoping for a small hint of comfort from the older man. Severus' face was impassive, but his eyes held a light of anxiety within. With a deep breath, Harry tipped the vial to his lips and drank the potion in one gulp. Slowly, it slipped down his throat, weaving its way throughout his system. An almost frigid feeling overtook him, causing him to sit down quickly on his bed. His hand came up to clutch at his chest as the feeling crept its way around his heart and down into his belly. He kept his eyes locked on Severus', shuttering violently. Severus draped a blanket around his shoulders, watching with a calculating gaze for any signs of a volatile reaction. Finally, the rolling waves of ice came to a stop at the base of his throat, and he strove to draw a breath. Cold fingers grasped at his neck. There was a snap and the sensation of something unlocking. Just as slowly as the potion, warmth now invaded his frame, driving the coldness away with a strong current of heat. He could feel the tingle of his magic flow throughout his veins. It settled like a cat in his chest, purring in its contentment.

Blinking open eyes he hadn't known he had closed, Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Severus sat next to him, placing two fingers to his neck, satisfied with the regular beating of his pulse. His coal black eyes raked over Harry's form, searching for anything amiss. "Did it work?" he asked softly.

Harry closed his eyes with a yawn, relishing the warm touch on his skin. He pressed his hand against Severus' and leaned over to place a soft kiss on the man's lips. Smiling, he nodded before falling back onto his bed, his head nestled immediately into his pillow. His hand sought out and caught Severus' again, giving it a squeeze. "Yeah, S' fine. Stay," he muttered before slipping off to sleep, unaware that the older man sat there stunned by his action.

With a shake of his head, Severus debated between giving in and laying beside Harry, or finding something more productive to do. Still a selfish man, his desire won out and he relaxed next to Harry, willing to relinquish his heart once more to the man who had given much, and still refused to ask for anything in return. Their conversation earlier gave him glimpses of a strong young man, one who could fully recover from his past. Even if he was not too keen on witnessing what was sure to be a rather explosive reunion between Draco and Harry, he was somewhat eagerly anticipating the consequences of Harry's rather sly plan. Knowing the grudge several of Harry's friends still bore towards the Malfoy heir, he could only begin to imagine what fireworks this new project would procure. Harry, he was sure, would take the job. And it would be good for Harry to finally break from his shell. Merlin knew, he had much to catch up on, if only he would allow himself to do so.

For that sole reason, while Severus held the sleeping man, he could find comfort in the idea of the house being overran with past dunderheaded students.

By gods, he really was in love.

* * *

Early evening cast a rainbow of colors into the room, the day's drizzle giving way to a dazzling late sunset. Harry awoke slowly, feeling the heavy weight of Severus' arm still wrapped around his waist. It was a rare treat for the man to stay as he had. Harry wasn't complaining in the least. Instead, he snuggled deeper into the embrace, listening to the slow breathing of the tired man beside him. He glanced up, seeing the frown etched on the harsh features. Something was weighting on the Potions Master's mind, and had from the moment he arrived that afternoon. Something to do with his visit to Hogwarts, Harry assumed. He had to wonder once again what had led Severus there in the first place. Pondering everything said the night before and this afternoon, he could only guess whatever it was hadn't been pleasant, nor had Severus been satisfied with the answers he received.

A part of him didn't want to know honestly. After the emotional baggage he had unpacked yesterday, he knew Severus had been disturbed by his revelations. Was that what moved him to seek out the castle? Harry sighed and scrunched up his brow. Wandering in mental circles wouldn't solve anything. Only Severus had the answers and until Harry could ask him, he would have to wait. Carefully, so as to not wake his sleeping companion, Harry disengaged himself from Severus' embrace and slipped from the bed. A glance at the clock told him it was just after six. Dinner would be shortly, and he still needed to collect his daughter from the clutches of her spoiling Aunt and Cousin. He smiled softly, turning his gaze upon Severus. He was indeed very lucky. He had many who loved him.

With a determined look on his face and a tightening of his jaw, he made is decision. One person out of so many should not have such an impact on his life. It was time he stood on his own two feet and got some of his own back. He would help with the museum, and he would show Draco and anyone else who doubted that he was still Harry James Potter, a man with strength and conviction. Smoothing his fingers through the long black hair along Severus' jaw, he laid a tender kiss there. "Thank you," he whispered. Once again, his saving grace had shown him the way.

Severus slept the rest of the night away, and Harry, after retrieving his daughter, hadn't the heart to wake the man. Crawling back into bed beside him hours later, he reviewed the reply he sent back to the Minister. Plans were now set in motion, and there was no turning back. Come hell or high water, Harry was joined to the project, and he meant to see it through. He would contact Hermione in the morning to enlist her help. She, he reckoned, would be eager to help. He wondered, briefly, if he should get in touch with Neville and Luna. Both friends had been of insurmountable help, especially during the final battle. Without either of them, the outcome might have been much different. He shuttered, recalling some of the more gruesome events from that night. Seeing friends and those he thought of as family die... the attack on Severus... his own death. He laced his hands with Severus' and held on, grateful, not for the first time, that it had ended the way it did. Pulling the older man's arms around him, he snuggled into his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, and praying he got to hear for many years to come. It struck him then that this was all he wanted. Nothing meant a thing unless he had this man by his side, and his Ellie in his arms.

Falling finally, Harry could admit without a single doubt that he was in love, and willing to do anything for Severus. Lifting his lips to the slightly parted ones of the Potions Master, he kissed him firmly. "I know you're not awake. And I swear I will tell you again when you are. But I need to say it now," he whispered. "I'm in love with you, Severus. I think I have been for longer than I know. You've become my heart, and I'm not giving that up."

He heard Severus give a deep sigh and clutched him securely to his chest. Harry tucked his head under his chin, serenely happy for the first time in a long time. Somehow, he knew everything was going to turn out alright.

Fate, however, had other ideas.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer:** Not mine.

**A/N:** First of all, I have to apologize for the lack of updates. Good gods, it's been months. All I can say is that life took a terrible turn for me a while back, and because of the hell I was going through, this fell by the wayside. I couldn't deal with the drama in here, and in my own life. Not to mention I created a Draco that I absolutely **despise**. So it was hard to get motivated again. However, I am back to work on this story and looking forward to seeing how my darling readers are doing.

Few things I want to address before we get into the chapter. A reader asked me a question earlier and I thought it warranted reviewing here as well, in case others have wondered. It is a rather important line of thought, and will set the basis for chapters to come:

**If they were in love, why did Draco treat Harry the way he did?**

Harry was very much in love with Draco, hence the rather lengthy recovery from Draco's treatment. That question is really tough, quite honestly. I have been... and gotten out of... two horribly abusive relationships, and in both, was told time and again how much the other person loved me, only to be beaten when they got angry. I don't really understand the mentality of an abuser, truthfully. For some it is their upbringing; for others, it is in their nature. And I'm not here to argue either point.

Draco, from what I have read and seen in both the movies and the books, wasn't treated exactly nicely by his father. True, you could argue that Harry had it worse, and that's no excuse, and I'm not saying it is. But for me, I see a man who is still very much a little boy, still spoiled and wanting the world, but not giving much back... which will come out very clearly in the next few chapters. Harry was his steady, someone he took for granted, and assumed he could use however he wanted to. He has yet to mature and even realize his actions towards Harry, and how very wrong they were. He loved the IDEA of Harry, but not the underneath. Trust me though, he will soon know exactly what he lost.

I also want to emphasize that what Draco did to Harry in the first chapter was abusive. Just because you are in a committed relationship, whether married or not, does not give either partner the right or excuse to demand sex, or take what they want when told 'no.' It is a common misunderstanding that rape cannot happen within a committed relationship, but it can, and is just as damaging, if not more so than when it is done by a stranger. The shattering of trust between the partners soon follows. I am not by any means minimizing the other. Fact of the matter is- Rape is Rape. And while I know Harry didn't exactly say no... he sure as hell didn't want what Draco did to him.

Just a reminder- it is rated M and the rating will certainly apply to this chapter and others to come. Mild lime-ish here, and some rather bad language. Erm... let me know how you think it turned out. I'm really out of shape so to speak, when it comes to writing 'smutty' stuff. Sorry for the horribly long note. O_O

* * *

**Foolish Games Part 14**

Beads of sweat rolled down the toned chest, mingling with the remains of his body's release. His legs clutched around pumping hips as his neck arched and he moaned again. Above him, his lover quivered, holding himself steady through the last of his orgasm, wincing as pearly white teeth clamped down on his shoulder.

"Fuck, Draco, that hurts. I've told you not to do that," he hissed, jerking back away from the smug blond. Draco opened glazed grey eyes and smirked.

"Quit being a git, Blaise. I know you like a little pain with your pleasure."

Blaise untangled himself from the prone body beneath him and sat up, a sneer marring his handsome features. He stared straight ahead, his eyes locked on the wall before him. Draco rolled to his side, his fingers dancing along the darker man's spine. Blaise moved away.

"Such a bitch," Draco spat, his lips curling in a disgusted manner. Blaise rolled his eyes and stood, gathering his trousers with a smooth motion.

"Takes one to know one, Drakey," he snarled back, pulling on his clothes.

"Merlin, what the hell is your problem?" the blond asked, his eyes lingering on the dark flesh before him, the lust still in his eyes. His friend was one of the finest pieces of arse around, and he simply loved to look, knowing the marks on his skin were caused by him.

Blaise shoved a hand through his sweaty hair, ruffling the thick black locks, reminiscent of a certain Gryffindor Draco was trying so very hard to forget. He turned back around, his gaze hard, and inspected the tousled man. "You just don't get it, do you?" he asked rhetorically. "You think only of yourself. No wonder Harry left you."

Draco's eyes popped wide and he was out of the bed in a flash, his fist clenched and ready to strike the taller man. Blaise stood his ground, not impressed. "Don't," Draco spat out, "say his name."

"Why not? That's what this is all about anyway, isn't it? You don't talk to me in over a month, and suddenly you want to fuck. Coincidentally, it's the same week you find out your little plan worked. You got what you wanted. Potter signed on to that stupid museum project, even though he knows it means working with you. What more do you want?"

"To destroy him," Draco responded instantly, his eyes darkening with hateful longing. "No one walks away from a Malfoy. He made that mistake, and now, he'll pay for it."

Blaise shook his head with a dark laugh. "Gods, how shallow can you be?" Although his face didn't show it, he was worried for his friend. The situation had the makings of being a monumental disaster. It wouldn't be just Harry that was hurt in the end. Despite all his roaring and stomping, Draco was still an insecure little boy, crying over his lost toy.

Not that Blaise thought Harry was a toy, far from it. During Draco's relationship with the green eyed man, Blaise had gotten to know him remarkably well. And he liked what he saw. Harry was a force to reckon with. Full of quiet fire and strange beauty. They had been as ying-yang as possible, but still, he truly thought they had something worthwhile. It was somewhat shocking, and not a little disappointing when Draco called him up the first time and requested their interlude.

At the time, however, Blaise had believed Draco's assertions that Harry and he were on the verge of a break-up. Not that it excused his actions. He still felt the pangs of regret and guilt, knowing now that Harry hadn't a clue what was unfolding within his supposed happy relationship. And Blaise was certainly not the last of Draco's illicit rendezvous. Over the course of a year, Draco had wracked up quite a name for himself within certain circles. If he thought he was improving his reputation by being the Slytherin Slut, he was sadly misguided.

Not that the blond cared on twit about it.

Blaise sighed. He hadn't seen Harry since before the break-up, hearing that the younger man had went into hiding, living a quiet life outside of the spotlight. He hoped dearly that he was happy with his life. Harry deserved every bit of peace he had. Hence his rather vehement displeasure at Draco's _grand_ plan. Damn the Malfoys and their infernal pride. It would be the downfall of this one, he was sure.

He finished buttoning his shirt just as a voice called out from downstairs. He rolled his eyes. If he was against the plan, Pansy was more than happy to cheer the idiot on.

"We're up here, Pans." Draco shouted, finally wrapping himself in his black silk dressing robe and flashed Blaise a hungry look. "We are not done here," he warned.

Blaise just shook his head, stepping into his shoes. "Yes, we are. And don't call again, alright. I won't be your fuck toy anymore."

Draco leered with a smug smirk. "We shall see," he replied.

"Shall see what?" Pansy asked, casting a glance over the two with a knowing look. "Ah, I've interrupted, haven't I?"

Shaking his head, Blaise moved to leave. "No, we were more than already done. I'm out."

Pansy grinned, her face scrunched up in a rather ugly expression. She wasn't exactly pretty on the best of days, with her pug nose and sharp gaze. Just now, she looked feral. Blaise cringed and stepped towards the door. Her hand shot out, sharp nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. "No, you might want to hear this, dear Blaise. It does involve poor little Potter after all."

Blaise leveled a sneer at her. "And this concerns me how?" he asked.

Giggling in her screechy way, Pansy plucked at his sleeve repeatedly. "Because, you idiot, it is important to Draco's plan."

Tugging himself free, he rolled his eyes. "Again... why should I care?"

Pansy shrugged, flopping herself down on the bed and patted the place beside her. Draco sat down, giving her a kiss on the temple. She beamed. "So he replied?" she asked.

Draco tossed his white blond head and simpered. "Of course he did. You know he couldn't resist something like this."

"Hmm..." Pansy hummed, playing with her blonde locks, a look of curious boredom on her face. "And the family?"

"Scorpius is with Mum and Father. Astoria is in Rome, with her new flame."

"Oh? I take it you've already had him?"

Draco laughed. "Twice. He's good, but disposable."

Pansy giggled. "Well," she began conspiratorially. "I heard from a certain source that Potter was sighted in Surrey two weekends ago."

"Surrey?" Blaise questioned. Pansy nodded.

"Apparently he was attending a funeral of some sort."

"His relatives lived in Surrey," Draco supplied. "Although I don't know why he would return there, after the treatment he received by them."

Blaise snorted. Merlin, but the man was dense. "Probably for the same reason he signed on to your project, even with the knowledge he'd have to see you again."

Pansy looked confused. "And what would that be?" she asked, not seeing the correlation between the two.

"A sense of duty perhaps. Or maybe he just wanted closure."

A harsh laugh cut across the room. "Well, he certainly will not be getting any closure from me," Draco proclaimed. "I want him to rue the day he stepped out our door."

Pansy nodded adoringly, a malicious glint to her gaze. "He will, I'm sure, Draco. Your plan is brilliant. And if what you say is true, then he will be emotionally fragile right now."

Blaise flinched. They really were horrible. "I still don't see how this is really important."

"Oh, I didn't tell you the best part, though," Pansy replied. "Guess who was seen accompanying him?"

"Weasley? Longbottom?" Draco rattled off.

Pansy cackled and shook her head. "Your Godfather, darling. Snape! Can you believe it?"

Draco sat as though frozen, his already pale face drained of color. His fists bunched in the fabric of his dressing robe and his jaw was set with rage. Two bright spots of red flamed in his cheeks. "Come again?" he hissed, bringing all attention back to him.

Pansy winced. "I said that Professor Snape was with him. They arrived and left together. He was even seen protecting Potter from some outraged woman. Seems he had to almost carry Potter away from the grave site. I guess his magic went a bit haywire, although I'm not really clear on that point."

"Severus... with Potty?" Draco ground out. "What the fuck would he be doing with the Golden Boy?"

Shaking her head, Pansy shrugged. "I was told they appeared to be close. Don't tell me you knew nothing of this?"

Standing and pacing around his spacious room, Draco glared. "No, of course not. As if I would allow such a thing to happen."

"Allow?" Blaise interrupted. "As if you could have stopped anything. They are both grown men, Draco. Harry doesn't belong to you anymore, no matter what you seem to think in that mental mind of yours. Merlin, you are more blimey than Lovegood lately." He sighed deeply. "Look, just leave it be. Seriously. You are only going to find yourself on the losing end."

Draco stopped, his eyes flashing. "Malfoys do not lose."

Blaise threw back his head and laughed. "Yeah... 'cause you were on the winning side of the war, eh?" he shot back. Seconds later, the dark holly of Draco's wand was pointed at his throat, those grey eyes filled with unholy fire. He could see now that Draco was truly coming unhinged. He pushed it away slowly and smoothed down his shirt. "Just remember what happened then, Draco. Remember what happened to the last guy that went up against Harry, and how well he fared," he admonished and with a _crack, _was gone.

Draco dropped his hand and bowed his head. Anger burned in his belly and his face moved into an unattractive expression. Pansy sat up cautiously. "What will you do?" she asked quietly.

Turning back around, his eyes pinned hers. "I meant what I said before. No one walks away from a Malfoy... especially not some two bit pretty boy." He grinned, his lips pulled back into sadistic smile. "I'll take everything he cares about. Starting with my Godfather."

A chill swept through the room, and Pansy had to wonder just then, whether or not Blaise might be right. "So..." she murmured. "When will you begin?"

"As soon as possible. Keep your ear to the ground, will you?" he asked, sliding easily up beside her and hooking a hand around her waist. He toyed with her hair and pressed his lips against her cheek. She shivered, but nodded. "Good," he whispered, pulling her closer.

Closing her eyes, she damned herself once, and Draco twice.

* * *

"Are you sure about this, Harry?" Hermione asked, a worried look on her face. Ron's mirrored his wife's.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. Despite who is paying, it's a good cause. Besides, won't he be surprised when we all show up?" he grinned mischievously. It was infectious, and something neither had seen in a while adorn his face. They both smiled back.

"Alright," Ron replied. "We'll help. I'll have to get some time off, but I'm sure Kingsley will okay it."

Harry gave a grateful smile. "I requested that we meet somewhere neutral to start. Less likelihood of Malfoy making a scene. He is far too concerned with his image. The board agreed. So tomorrow evening, we will gather in the backroom at _*Bacchetta Magica _in London."

Hermione's eyes glittered. "How did you get reservations there, Harry? The place is booked out for two months at least."

Shrugging, Harry flashed a lopsided grin.

"I never thought your intelligence would be failing so early in life, Mrs. Weasley," Severus' silken voice floated into the room. Harry turned in his chair, his green eyes lighting with an inner fire. Severus trailed his hand along the back of Harry's chair, brushing the younger man's shoulders in an affectionate gesture that did not go unnoticed by Hermione's observant gaze. She smiled knowingly and met the dark man's eyes.

"I assume you used your name," she concluded with a nod to Harry.

"Yeah," Harry blushed. "It's nice to know it is still good for somethings."

Ron snorted. "Merlin, mate. It's good for a lot more than that, you know. You just have to _use _it."

Harry waved his hand, turning his face up towards Severus who still hovered behind him. "But then I'd be a glory seeking Gryffindor prat, right?"

Severus shook his head, a small smile twitching the corners of his mouth. "I was under the impression you have always been that way," he countered.

Harry laughed with a roll of his eyes. "Of course."

Hermione and Ron shared a look. Both noted the relaxed atmosphere surrounding the two, the happy look in Harry's eyes and the softening of Severus' usually sever expression. It seemed something had finally been resolved in the past few weeks. And neither could find it in their hearts to begrudge the two men their happiness. Merlin knew, they both deserved it. And Hermione had a feeling they would need each other more than ever in the months to come. She shivered slightly at the thought, rubbing her arms as a chill ran through her. If only she could capture this moment, and let them have everyday just like it. With a sigh, she stood.

"Just owl me the time, and we will be there. Have you talked to Neville and Luna?"

"Yes, as well as several others we thought might be useful."

"And Ellie?"

"Andy will have her. Teddy is looking forward to spending time with his cousin, and Andy, I dare say, dotes something terrible on her," Harry responded. He got to his feet and hugged both his friends tightly. "Thank you," he whispered.

Hermione and Ron nodded together. "You know you can count on us, mate," Ron assured him, then grabbed his wife's hand. "We'll see you tomorrow, then." With a shout and a flash of green, the two were on their way home, plans and thoughts whirling through their minds. Come what may, they would be ready to stand by Harry and Severus' side.

Harry turned to Severus as soon as the Weasely's were gone. "How was work?" he asked, standing a few feet away and looking every bit the beautiful creature Severus had come to appreciate. He gestured to the kitchen, intent on fixing them a cup of tea. Severus grabbed the younger man's hand and tugged him to a stand still. He ran his gaze over the lithe body with searching eyes. He noted the tired glaze to those green orbs, the pinch of pain in his features. Running his fingers over the man's cheek, he led Harry over to the sofa and pushed him down onto it.

"As astoundingly mediocre as usual, of course. You look tired, Harry. Did you rest today?" he asked, his tone concerned.

Harry fought back a yawn, realizing the exhaustion flooding his body as it washed over him. "No. Ellie was rather restless when I laid down with her. And then, after she fell asleep, Hermione and Ron stopped by. I must admit, I feel slightly drained." He gave Severus a shamefaced look.

The tall man shook his head with fondness. It was amazing how much Harry could worry over another, and completely forget about his own health. He was still recovering from his breakdown a few weekends back, and so had been admonished by both his love and Robert to rest as much as needed. He wanted to follow orders, really he did. However, life had a way of intruding on his plans.

"Sit here and rest. I will get the tea. When do you expect Ellie to awaken?" Severus asked.

Harry cast a glance at the clock. "Within the next half hour. She's a bit excited about tomorrow night, you know."

"And you?" Severus questioned keenly. "How are you handling the evening's arrangements?"

"I'm fine," Harry replied quickly. A quirked black brow had him chewing on his lip. "Alright," he folded. "I'm as nervous as all get out and ready to hex something." He fiddled with the fringe on the blanket over his legs and looked out the window. "There will be a lot of people there that I haven't had contact with in months, even years. Severus, what if they can't forgive me?"

Tea forgotten, Severus picked up Harry's legs, sat down beside him and settled the limbs in his lap. He smoothed the blanket down, then gazed at the troubled man before him. "Harry," he called, waiting for those green eyes to focus completely on him. "I do not say this often, and most likely not about the ones you call your friends, but you have forged strong relationships with most of the people invited. They respect you, have stood beside you through the rage of a Dark Lord, and beyond." His long fingers grasped Harry's chin, holding his beloved face still. "Can you sincerely doubt that they will not be there for you now?"

Eyes bright with a whirlwind of emotions, Harry shook his head minutely. "No," he whispered.

A thumb brushed over his lips and Severus' dipped his head in agreement. "Then I suggest you put that fear from your mind. Stand tall and strong. Show Draco Malfoy who Harry Potter truly is." He leaned forward, replacing his lips with his finger in a breathtakingly gentle kiss. Harry sighed into it, his fingers tangling into Severus dark hair. Lazily, their tongues played against each other in a heated caress.

Harry shivered, scooting forward until he was almost in the older man's lap. A small tug around the waist and Severus lifted him, planting him firmly on his legs. Arms wrapped around his neck, toying with the hair at Severus neck. And just like that, a switch had been flipped. Both knew what the other wanted, and neither were quick to say no. A groan issued between them as Harry rocked forward slightly, brushing their groins together.

Severus pulled back gently, his hands resting on Harry's slight waist, his fingers massaging circles there. Panting, they leaned their foreheads together as Harry resumed his rocking. Heat coiled in their stomachs, Severus' hips lifting in time with Harry's, granting the men continuous friction. A breeze picked up around them, toying with their hair and sweeping gently along their heated skin. Severus slipped his hands under Harry's shirt, his fingertips tracing patterned on the fevered flesh.

Moans and breathless words tumbled from their lips. Magic crackled and danced along their forms, joyously melding the two together. As they picked up speed, Harry's teeth nipped at Severus' neck, his tongue swirling over the scars. He pressed tender kisses to the marks, delighting in the whimper he pulled from the stoic Potions Master. Their movements grew frantic, each seeking to give release to the other. With twin cries of ecstasy, their shuddered together, letting the waves of pleasure crash over them until bonelessly, Harry slumped forward, resting his head on Severus' shoulder.

Neither said a word, their breaths harsh and rapid. They sat, basking in the glow of their experience, not once regretting their actions. It had been a long time in coming, they knew, and there was something sweetly special in sharing this moment with the man they loved.

Eventually, Harry sat up slowly, his face blushing hotly, but his eyes twinkling brightly with the unspoken love he felt. Severus reached up and brushed the sweaty hair from his brow, placing a tender kiss there. With a wave of his hand, Harry cast a cleansing spell on them, grinning sheepishly.

"Tea now?" he asked.

Severus could only laugh.

* * *

_*Bacchetta Magica_- Italian for Magic Wand

Reviews most welcome... flames not at all.


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